Kenderella
by the corrupted quiet one
Summary: Once upon a time, there lived a servant named Kenny. When his cruel stepbrother and stepsisters left for the Jewish prince's ball, a faerie came and found out a way for him to go to!  A very cracky version of Cinderella. K2, and eventual Stendy, and Clybe
1. Prologue

Once upon a time in a pissant little crappy kingdom in the middle of the mountains, there once lived a penniless drunkard of an aristocrat and his young son. This drunkard, having lost his wife in a bizarre attack involving a contemporary vocalist dragon ravaging the kingdom for the hundred thirty-ninth time, remarried, wedding a rich and rather whorish aristocrat. This aristocrat already had three children, one bastard son with a Bronco, and then two adopted daughters.

Out of all the aristocrat's children, none of them were the kindest. The son was a vile, obese little brat already overtaken by greed from being spoiled at a young age, thinking of himself as practically the king (in fact, he thought himself _better_ than the king). The daughters both had their strong points, being good girls at heart, although the fact that their kingdom had no feminist rights didn't please them, nor did the fact that their mother's son was far more favoured. However, the drunkard's son, as much of a foul-mouthed perverted ruffian he acted, was actually the sweetest of the bunch.

The drunkard and the aristocrat had a fairly happy marriage, although the father was usually too drunk and the mother was usually too sexed-up to realise how much the aristocrat's son mistreated his stepbrother, forcing him to do all the chores and housework and threatening his stepsisters if they didn't help with 'Keeping the poor piece of shit in place'. Thus, the drunkard's son ended up becoming virtually slave of the household.

Considering the lifestyles the two lived, the drunkard and the aristocrat both died, the man of alcoholism and the woman of an STD. Thankfully, the four children were of age and inherited from the deaths. That was, the aristocrat's greedy son took control of the _properteh_ and the money, the girls each got minimal amounts of money and all their mother's clothes and jewels, and then the drunkard's son got jack shit.

So, with jack shit and being forced to act as his step-siblings' slave, the drunkard's son was basically screwed over and shoved between a rock and a hard place, leaving him to do all the crap no one else really wanted to do, he could've asked for _anything_ to get his ass out of his serfdom.

Even something as retarded as a little fairytale magic.

* * *

**A/N: ...Okay in case you haven't noticed, I was clearly on crack or something coming up with this idea. But everyone loves fairytales, so why not have some fun fucking around with Cinderella? If you're actually contimplating clicking the "Next Chapter" button, I suppose I should warn you now that this is going to be really cracked up. But hey, ain't that what South Park's all about? Fucking beloved shit up? Ehehe... .**


	2. The Stepbrother

"_KEEEEENNY!"_ The enraged call of young Lord Eric Cartman echoed down the corridors of the second floor, the whole place nearly shaking at the loud sound of the boy's voice, "_GET YOUR POOR ASS UP HERE __**NOW!**__"_

Kenny McCormick, the step-brother who was constantly subjected to poor working conditions and treatment, looked up from the floor he was scrubbing with a groan. Over the years, he'd grown to truly detest that voice, along with the one who owned it, his head stinging the moment the sound entered his eardrums. He cringed, dreading to find out what he'd done 'wrong' this time.

"What the fuck does he want now?" Kenny muttered, throwing the brush into the suds bucket that sat next to him, not caring if soapy water got n him or not. Why would he care? It wasn't like it was going to mess up his clothes or something.

Kenny got to his feet, stretching his sore muscles with a groan. Even though he'd been working for as long as he could remember, Kenny was sure he'd never be used to the pains of the dumbshit chores he had to do. Hour after hour, day after day, chore after chore... What the hell kind of life was that for a good looking eighteen year old? Well, it'd be easier to tell just how good looking he was if his face wasn't smeared with dirt and ash all the time and if black shoot and soil wasn't forever mixed into his tangled blond hair.

"For fuck's sake," The boy said, starting down the hall, not caring that he was leaving a trail of sudsy footprints behind him, "That fatass jerk-off has to find some fucking flaw in anything I fucking slave over just to make himself feel better! If I'm really such a damn fuck-up he can just gimme a couple bucks and I'll get the hell out of here!"

As the blond neared the room he'd heard Eric yell to him from, Kenny passed a mirror, his sapphire eyes catching a glimpse of his reflection. He really did look like a slave at this point, not even he could deny it. The threadbare orange jacket he wore lost its sleeves, the things having torn off, the hood looking about ready to fall off next. From all the stains and sweat marks, it was hard to believe that someone like him could ever dare walk into a place like the Cartman Manor and not be removed on sight. His appearance slightly reminded him of his father from before he ever even met Lady Liana L'orgasm Cartman, at least in the sense that he looked like a penniless guy you'd find begging on the streets. Kenny looked away quickly, walking a little faster. He knew that being a beggar beat being a slave to the Cartman house. _Anything_ beat what Kenny had to deal with.

_Too bad I ain't some broad who's got a douchebag prince waitin' for her..._ He thought bitterly, opening the door to Eric's office, ready to face unnecessary screaming and possibly getting something thrown at him. It was simply a day in the life of the mistreated stepbrother.

In the office, Eric was waiting for Kenny, an irked glow in his brown eyes as he glared at the boy on entry. The young lord was leaning on the desk, angrily devouring some the finest Cheesy Poofs an aristocrat's son could buy. It was no wonder he was so fat, considering Eric ate all the finest delicacies in terms of snacks and desserts while Kenny got the oh so savoury meal of bread and water.

"You called, fatass?" Kenny greeted the other, a snarky edge to his tone as he put on an artificial grin.

Eric's eyes narrowed, a gravelly groan leaving the lord's throat. He was clearly not amused.  
Kenny's fake smile faded, seeing that being his usual cocky-son-of-a-bitch self would only land him getting a candelabrum chucked at his head or some such thing, and he figured having that happen twice this week already was enough.

"So, what'd I do now?" Kenny asked lowly.

"Keeenny, Keeenny, _Keeenny_..." Eric sighed, shaking his head, speaking with fake pity in his voice, "What the hell am I going to do with you?"

"I unno, LEMME LEAVE?" The blond suggested, knowing all too well that Cartman would only drop his stepbrother slave in Kenny's dreams.

"PFFFF THAT'S RICH!" Eric laughed, cackling his head off over the boy's fake suggestion, little chunks of half chewed Cheesy Poofs spurting from his mouth and dotting the white rug with spit-soaked staining orange, "Wooh...Then again I know ya can't help that you were poor and stupid from birth, so I guess I still have to explain these com-pli-ca-ted things out _slow-ly_."

Kenny growled, knowing very well _why_ he was still poor and also knowing that he was no retard. At very least he was more intelligent than Cartman.

"Anyway," Eric cleared his throat, and then shovelled another handful of food into his mouth, "I called you in here because those sneaky Jewrat royals are throwing a ball this evening..."

"WHOOPIE a tight-ass party!" Kenny rolled his eyes, "Am I invited?" He knew the answer was no.

"PFFFFT, yeah right," The fat lord sniggered, "They say commoners are allowed to come as well, but there's a difference between commoners and piece of crap servants."

"Ya do remember we're _stepbrothers_, right?" _Regretfully... Thank god I don't have any of your shitty blood in my veins..._

"Stop getting off topic!" Cartman barked, "The reason you're here is cause since me and the bitches are gonna be out, it's up to you to clean this filthy house so it shines by the time we get back! Even if you seem to do a shot job at that already."

"Hey! I work my goddamn ass off every fucking day to keep this place in order!" Kenny shouted, clenching his fists, "And all you do is eat, shit, count coins, and act like an asshole to everyone! Ya won't even have Wendy or Bebe lift a damn finger and it ain't case ya like 'em! It's cause ya hate me more than ya do them!"

"Are you _talking_ _back_ to your _master_?" He asked, a warning flare flashing in his eyes when he spoke. As opposed to letting Kenny's slip of the tongue go, Eric had to obey the urgings of his fiery temper and threw the bowl of Cheesy Poofs at Kenny, orange flying everywhere as the silver bowl whirled towards the blond's head like a discuss.

In order to avoid a possible concussion, Kenny ducked, covering his head just in case the bowl hit him after ricocheting off the wall or some other furniture. Several Cheesy Poofs ended up raining down on his back as the bowl skimmed over his head, ending up hitting the half-open door at an angle. From the hallway, there was a loud shatter followed by the pitter-patter of little glass fragments hitting the tile floor. Well there goes _another_ window needing a replacement...

With that, Eric stormed over to Kenny, grasping the boy by the collar of his jacket, nearly tearing it off when he yanked the boy up.

"Don't you _ever_ talk back to me again, white trash!" Cartman snarled, menacingly glaring into his stepbrother's eyes, "Or next time, I won't be so nice. _Got it?_"

Kenny stared into Eric's enflamed eyes a long moment, loathing lord with every tired fibre of his being before he finally, rather reluctantly, nodded. "I got it..." The blond muttered.

"_Good_," His grip on Kenny's collar loosened, basically dropping Kenny on the floor and walking away, off to go count some money in the treasury for clear his head after dealing with the 'idiot' he ruefully called a stepbrother, "Now go clean up that damn mess in the hall."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll get right to it..." The blond muttered, slowly getting to his feet, "_Master,_" Saying that made Kenny's stomach churn, more than a bit regretful that he had to call that _slave driver_ of a stepsibling anything that wasn't completely offensive.

With a smug smirk, Eric walked out of the room, taking overly proud and pompous strides, feeling oh so happy with himself for making Kenny's day even shittier than before.

Of course, the blond was glowering at his stepbrother the entire time, even glaring after the other boy vanished from view.

"Fucking asshole..." He growled, brushing off some of the orange dust that had gotten on him courtesy of the snack food rain earlier, "Go have fun at that goddamn ball! Have so much fun ya never come back from it why don't ya!"

Kenny was well aware that he was only talking to himself, but somehow saying that just made him feel better, serving as a reassurance that he didn't actually yearn to get out of the house to go to some extravagant party and forget his hellish life for just one night. It was just a bunch of prudes dancing in imaginary boxes and laughing about how droll the party was, right? Nothing exciting or anything that could possibly interest Kenny... So why did he feel slightly disappointed that he couldn't go to the party?

_Since when did I even give a shit?_ He knew there was no way in hell that Cartman would let him go, and he was no doubt going to be backed up by Wendy and Bebe whether they were threatened into doing it or not. Besides, what royal family upholding a prestigious reputation would allow someone like _Kenny_ within an acre of their ball? It was all a waste.

But-the one thing that was bugging him the most—why the hell that waste was giving him hope?

* * *

**A/N: Crappy first chapter is crappy OTL It's really late and I was originally going to hold off publishing this until I posted some other things (cause I'm holding out on you guys so I can post some of the other drabbles I've got like half written and I'll finish hopefully tomorrow) but I was all like "WELL IT'S ONLY 3:30 AM AND I HAVEN'T POSTED ON FANFIC IN A WHILE" so here I am. You can probably tell who the characters are gonna be in terms of corresponding to Cinderella, save for maybe the fairygodmother. But let's not guess who's who and let's just all leave a review and sit back with a cup of tea! ...Yeah okay I really should consider getting more sleep ehehehehe... Anyway, the rest of it will be a LOT better than this, forgive me for putting up a starter chapter that's kinda really meh. TRUST ME THE REST IS GONNA BE A LOT BETTER. If next chapter isn't better then I'll let Cartman throw a bowl of Cheesy Poofs at my head. WOOOOOOOO IT'S 3:34 IN THE MORNING WEEEEEEEEE Kayyeahlatergaiz ~a very tired and hyper CQO**


	3. The Stepsisters

"Wendy, do you think I should wear the red dress or the yellow dress to the ball?" Bebe asked her adopted sister, holding up two extravagant gowns that she was forced to choose between after hours of pawing through her wardrobe.

Both the Cartman sisters (oh, how they hated the name they were forced to have) were preparing for the ball, happy that they were going to be able to actually socialise for once as opposed to sitting around at home doing the only things Eric allowed them to do; sew, play dress-up, and make sandwiches. Naturally, this led the two to suffering a rather dull life of female oppression.

"Hmm?" Wendy, who had been brushing her long flowing ebony hair for a good fifteen minutes, turned to glance over at the frizzy blonde, "Uh...pick the red dress..." Personally, Wendy could care less about some of the things her sister cared about. It wasn't that she didn't like wearing wonderful dresses with magnificent jewels and fine shoes; it was just that Bebe cared about that far more than Wendy did.

"Yeah, the yellow one is kinda skanky anyway," Bebe nodded in agreement, flinging the yellow gown onto girl's bed, flopping on the heap of other rejected eveningwear, "So what are you wearing? Oh, and what shoes should I wear?" If there was one thing the blonde loved about being the daughter of a dead aristocratic woman, it was that she got the most well-made, comfortable, and elegant shoes.

"I don't know what I'm wearing to be honest," Wendy replied with a shrug, hazel eyes wandering back to gaze at her reflection in the mirror as she ran the brush through her hair once again, "Looks aren't all that important."

"Oh, but they'll be important as hell tonight!" Bebe exclaimed, "Don't you know _why_ this ball is being held? Like, the real point of it?"

"Another fruitless political gathering in which everyone discusses the troubles of the lower classes of the kingdom in a joking manner?" Wendy guessed.

"...No..." They may have been sisters by law and best friends all their lives, but it was easy to tell that they two girls had completely different mindsets, "Haven't you heard the word on the street? They're apparently using it as a way for the prince to pick his bride!" A sparkle came to the girl's cobalt eyes, the very thought of marriage filling her with the same glee found in a six year old girl with a brand new doll.

"You shouldn't believe everything you hear, Bebe," The black-haired girl sighed, then thought over what the blonde had said. It wouldn't have been below a regal family to use a ball as a cover up to set up an arranged marriage or some such thing... "Though it's not too surprising that the ball is just a ploy for—"

"Ploy?" Bebe interrupted, "Wendy! The prince is _picking_ the bride _himself_!"

"Picking _himself_?" As far as Wendy knew, that wasn't how the royal court system worked. She twirled around in her chair, giving Bebe a wide eyed look of slight disbelief, "No shit?"

"It's totally legit!" The blonde cheered, completely beaming over the whole idea, "The one who he _falls in love_ with tonight will be the one who _walks down the aisle with him_!" She giggled, imagining herself in that position, wanting to be the one to wear an elegant white gown with a train longer then her bed and be the royal bride.

Wendy just stared at Bebe, part of her really wanting to slap the girl across the face. What was this, a fairytale? These kinds of things didn't just happen, there was bound to be a catch! There _had_ to be a catch in order for this to be realistic!

"Right..." She said lowly, "Well...just try and have a good time tonight, okay?"

Bebe's giggling stopped. Even if she acted like the stereotypical 'dumb blonde' every so often, she knew when she was being doubted. This was one of those times.

"You don't believe it'll be me, do you?" Bebe shouted, "What? I'm not pretty enough? Is that it? Huh? Or are you insulting my intelligence!" She wasn't the dumb blonde all the time at least!

"No!" Wendy protested, "It's just...out of all the girls...that chances are...well..." She bit her lip. Statistics were against her stepsister.

"_OR DO YOU WANT HIM ALL TO YOURSELF?_" It was a strong accusation, but Bebe was known for being a bit drastic when she got defensive.

The dark haired girl nearly dropped her hair brush, her mouth gaping open at the shallow claim. Did she honestly think that Wendy just wanted some prince she'd never met? After living with her for eighteen years, didn't Bebe realise that Wendy wasn't that kind of girl?

"Bitch, are you _serious_?" She growled, "I'd sooner fall in love with _Cartman_ than do something as vapid as that to my own sister!"

At that remark, Bebe's vicious glare softened, going from overly protective to passive in mere moments. "D'awww, really?" The blonde asked, knowing that it was humanly impossible for her stepsister to ever love their wicked stepbrother (she was convinced Wendy would sooner kill herself).

"Yeah, really," Wendy said, smiling a bit, "Come on, we're still sisters," She sighed, sucking in her pride before saying, "And if you really want a shot with the prince, I'm sure you'll wow him the moment he sees you come in the ballroom."

The blonde's face glowed like the sun, eyes turning into blue burning stars while her hair became radiating rays. Hearing Wendy say that she was on her side made her feel better, it truly did. Really, the girls only had each other all these years, so her support naturally mattered more than anything to Bebe.

"D'aww Wendy!" She cheered, rushing over to wrap the other girl in a tight hug, "You're the best sister a girl could ask for! I love you!"

Wendy blinked, and then wrapped her arms around Bebe in turn. Even if it was a bit of false hope she was giving, she just wanted her sister to feel better. Out of her family, the only one she was ever willing to and allowed to make feel better was Bebe, thus it brought them close in the end.

"I love you too," She said, "And tonight we'll have a kickass time at the ball!"

"And I'll get myself a prince?" Bebe hummed.

"Oh, I can see the prince dancing with a blue-eyed blonde in the future." Wendy smiled.

Bebe giggled again, hugging her sister a tad tighter. "You're the best!"

"Yeah, yeah..." She simply patted her sister's back.

While the girls were distracted, the door slowly cracked open, Kenny poking his head into the room once the crack was big enough for his head. He wasn't aware that the girls were in there (or that they were considered 'indecent' by their standards) until he saw them hugging, and in a rather intimate fashion.

"_Whii-whioo~_" Kenny whistled, wolf-whistling without entirely realising it. Even if there was no blood relation, he wasn't actually interested in creeping on Wendy or Bebe. Kenny knew there were limits to perversion, and each was a fine fine line; doing your sisters was one of them.

At the sound, both the girls gasped, looking over at the blond peeking in. Pink coloured their cheeks, mostly because they were wearing those risqué under-dresses as opposed to full out gowns.

"KENNY!" Bebe snarled, "GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!"

"Hey, I was just comin' in to clean up!" Kenny frowned, "I didn't think you two were—"

He was cut off by a hair brush being chucked at his head, Kenny narrowly dodging the projectile thrown by Wendy.

"PERVERT! GO DO SOMETHING ELSE!" Wendy yelled. Honestly, she didn't have much of a problem with Kenny, although she wasn't a fan of his constant perverted allusions.

"I'm goin' I'm goin'!" Kenny said, rolling his eyes before his head disappeared behind the door, "Jesus Christ, keep your panties on."

"_ASSHOLE!"_ The stepsisters shrieked in unison.

_SLAM!_

"Well excuse me, bitches," The blond in the hallway grumbled, turning away from the door to the girls' shared chamber, "I'm sorry that you two get to go to fancy ass parties while I clean up all your fucking messes!" Did those two even know how lucky they were that they were just making sandwiches and sewing rather than spit-shining the entire mansion? Kenny knew that Cartman terrorised them a bit as well...but he couldn't begin to say how soft that fatass taskmaster was on them.

Speaking of said taskmaster, Kenny could hear Eric's heavy footsteps get louder as the lord was nearing the entrance to the corridor. And, since Kenny wasn't done cleaning the manor until it shined, those footsteps were code for "RUN NOW BEFORE YOU GET BEATEN WITH A BROOM, RETARD!"

"_Shit_," Kenny muttered, quickly scrambling off to find something else to clean.

Even if he didn't necessarily have to finish cleaning the house until his stepsiblings returned from the ball, that didn't mean that he still couldn't have a beating squeezed in while they were still getting ready. And there was still a lot more cleaning to do...

Kenny had a feeling his night was going to be full of covering his ass to avoid getting in trouble.

As if Kenny could manage _that_.

* * *

**A/N: LOOK I'M BEING PRODUCTIVE! AND IT'S ONLY 1:30 IN THE MORNING THIS TIME! Oh god, this isn't as good as I wanted it to be, though I kinda was rushing towards the end due to a friend sort of, erm, cockteasing me into working faster. That and I was kinda worried about the girls since I haven't written with them all too much. Yeah, Bebe's too much of a Legally Blonde girl and Wendy's a bit of a realistic downer in this chapter uh-huh more of my fails -emo corner- They'll get better once they get to the next chapter and when all four siblings can interact next chapter. Hopefully I get things better put together by the time they get there, since it doesn't get REAL good until Kenderella gets to go to the ball. SO, uh...R&R, I know the chapter ending is failsauctic, I'm going to try and update soon as I can, so sometime later in the week. Otherwise I'm pretty sure my friend is going to start torturing me with horrid threats until I write more. ANYWAY I hope this wasn't all too horrible for you to read. ;A; Ehehe... ~CQO**


	4. Cat Naps and Hissy Fits

Kenny let out a deep breath of victory, happily throwing the brush into the bucket with a splash. After hours of work—fewer hours than he expected—he'd managed to actually clean the entire house. Though, part of the reason for that was because he didn't take a nap earlier, leaving the dirty servant boy with coon-eyes.

"Aw fuck yeah!" He smiled, pleased that his hard work actually paid off. Maybe he should actually work harder to get these results more often... Oh, but the hard work cute into his nap time way too much.

"Merow..." The family cat, Mr. Kitty, meandered into the room, walking up to brush against the blond's leg. Perhaps there was _one_ member of the Cartmans who didn't treat him like total donkey-shit; even if that one member was just the grey ball of fluffy laziness.

"Hey there," Kenny said, glancing down at the feline who'd come to slightly ease his work pains by brushing up against his leg. It was a good thing Mr. Kitty wasn't one of those super finicky cats, otherwise the creature would more than likely steer clear of the boy twenty-four seven.

"Merrrrrow," The cat purred, the sound coming out a bit garglely. He nuzzled his face against Kenny's foot, the fact that dirt was starting to smear on his face and get in his whiskers not fazing him. The cat's tail twisted around Kenny's leg, wrapping around like a vine.

"At least _you_ don't treat me like shit hanging off your ass," The blond smiled, scooping Mr. Kitty up. He did have a bit of a fondness—and soft spot—for cats. And it wasn't just because one could get high off their piss.

Mr. Kitty purred louder, the little motor going to make the cat vibrate thanks to Kenny stroking him. One way to earn a kitty's initial favour was to pet them. His grey tail swished from side to side, showing the only sign of approval Kenny had had all day, maybe all week.

"Doncha like how I cleaned the whole damn house?" Kenny asked the cat, not expecting an exact answer but wanting to feel like at least someone was appreciating him, "Now I can laze around like you do all day while Lord Asswipe and the Bitches are out at a snobby rich folk party!" A quick bit of disappointment crossed him when he said that, although he wasn't sure why he even cared. He was never ever going to meet the standards to go to one of those boring things; so what was the reason to be sad? He shook his head to try and get the ball out of his mind, thinking it was just a random thought caused by overworking himself, "Ain't it gonna be fun?"

Mr. Kitty gazed up at Kenny, his glassy eyes staring into Kenny's before letting out a large yawn. After walking all the way there from the dining room on the other side of the hall, all his energy was gone. It was time for another cat nap!

Yawning was contagious, the blond yawning after the cat. Kenny had to admit that tired barely covered the extent of his exhaustion, having worked nonstop with no breaks or naps. He just wanted to get it done so he could have a free night to himself for _once_ in his life, but it cost him a lot of his energy.

"Yeah, it'll be fun after a nap..." Kenny said, eyes flickering over to the couch. He knew he really shouldn't sleep on it—the Cartman family heirloom couch that cost a fortune—but it was so tempting. The cushions seemed so alluringly comfortable, the pillows so soft and fluffy, and the fact that it was close to the smouldering fireplace made the setting all the more perfect.

"Merow!" Mr. Kitty hopped out of Kenny's arms, landing on his feet before wandering over to curl up on his true master's chair, curling up in the sinkhole Eric's ass imprint created in the cushion.

"Night, fuzzball..." Kenny mumbled, smiling a bit as the cat quickly dozed off. He glanced at the couch again, so tired he could've sworn that the sunshine hitting it was actually coming from the furniture itself, looking like some angelic resting place made especially for Kenny.

Even though he was still grimy (although he just about always was) from the grunt-work that had eaten just about all his day already, the servant boy walked over and flopped on the couch, the cushions feeling like clouds. All his muscle pain was soothed by the softness of the cushions, the warm heat emitted from the fireplace gently radiating on him to engulf him in an aura of cosiness. This was one of the extremely rare moments in which Kenny actually felt relaxed, as though nothing would bother him or ruin the moment.

As his head sunk into the pillow, he shut his eyes, almost immediately falling asleep.

* * *

"ARE YOU TWO READY YET?" Cartman bellowed, standing impatiently outside Wendy and Bebe's room.

Honestly, the only reason Eric wanted to go to the ball was for the sake of appearance, not to mention the free food and opportunity to make fun of the royals. What was a better place to rip on Jews than at their own party? _Though it would help if we could actually __**get**__ to the parteh..._ Eric thought before pounding on the door.

"Jesus Christ, we're coming, asshole!" Bebe shrieked from the other side of the door.

"Well if you two bitches wanna get there on time you better hurry up!" Cartman barked, "You do realise how _generous_ I'm being letting you two come!"

The lock clinked, the door to the girls' room being torn open by a rather irked looking Wendy and an equally annoyed Bebe. Wendy wore a long, slim and sparkling mulberry dress, a fuzzy lavender shawl and long matching gloves. A yellow beret adored her head, all her hair twisted into a long twirling strand that ran down over her right shoulder. Of course, not even the make-up could conceal the frustration gleaming in her eyes. Bebe, meanwhile, had on a brilliant red evening gown, a golden necklace around her neck. Long velvet gloves that went halfway up her forearm were on her hands, accompanied by a few showy rings. Although the girl brushed her hair to give herself a side-bang that covered one eye, all her fury burned in the other one, letting Eric know that she was far from amused.

The girls glowered at their brother, happy that they were simply adopted siblings, and despising how their brother really was generous offering for them to accompany him to the ball.

Even though it was more than likely an issue of vanity, Bebe and Wendy were thankful that Eric said that they could go to the lavish party and let them out of the house for once. Why, they couldn't deny that they had fun looking through all the clothes and getting dressed up to mingle with the upper circles they were virtually cut off from due to being the women of the house under rule of a tyrannical brother of a lord.

"We know that," Wendy snapped, "But you don't have to yell at us because we want to look our best. It _is_ important that your _sisters_ look good; otherwise we'd make a fool of the family name. You know, the one that _you're in charge of_." A snarky smirk came to her face, knowing that _that_ would push the fatass's buttons for sure.

Cartman narrowed his eyes at the ebony haired girl. Technically, she had a point, though he'd never tell her that she was right. The only one in the house who was ever right was Eric; the only way anyone else could be right would be to agree. But Wendy just loved using her intellect (which far surpassed Eric's) as a snarky tool to piss Cartman off.

"Let's just get to the goddamn ball," The brown-haired lord grumbled, turning to lead the girls down the hall, down the stairs, and out to the carriage waiting to escort them to the palace.

Wendy and Bebe looked at one another, exchanging smirks as a silent way of saying 'And another point for the girls' before following Eric down the corridor.

From the parlour, the loud clacking sound of two sets of high-heels hitting the marble coupled with the booming sound of Cartman's heavy footsteps served as a slight alert for Kenny, warning him that his stepsiblings were nearing. However, Kenny was far too deep in exhausted slumber to hear the signal of impending doom, the only set of ears that perked being those of Mr. Kitty.

"Hey, isn't that Kenny?" Bebe said as the trio passed by the parlour, catching sight of the filthy servant boy snoozing and getting dirt and grunge on the couch.

Cartman stopped, taking a few steps back to peer into the room, eyes widening with rage when he saw just what Kenny was doing.

"_KEEEENNY_!" Cartman roared, storming into the room, kicking the door open further so it hit the wall with a loud bang. The entire room shook, a few more fragile decorations trembling as they jumped near the edges of their perches, some even falling off in an act of figurine suicide.

"WHA?" Kenny jumped up, the holler jogging the blond right out of his blissful siesta. The moment he saw the angered bull that was Lord Eric Cartman, he knew that he was in for it. _**SHIT!**_

Cartman reached for Kenny's neck, taking advantage of the boy's dazed post-nap state to rip him from where he'd been lying and pull him up, shaking him violently.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING LAZING AROUND WHEN YOU SHOULD BE WORKING? AND WERE YOU LYING ON _MY MOTHER'S COUCH?_ DON'T YOU KNOW THAT THAT THING IS WORTH LIKE EIGHT TIMES YOUR WEIGHT IN GOLD YOU SCRAWNY ASS FUCKTARD?" Cartman shouted, trying to scramble Kenny's brains in his fit of fury.

Wendy and Bebe peeped in, standing in the doorway but a distance from their brother. They knew that he was going to throw one hell of a tantrum; and they did _not_ want to get in his way when he could potentially beat them like eggs.

"I-I-I was just-!" Kenny tried to come up with something to say, some sort of excuse, but his brain kept bouncing in his skull so much that he couldn't come up with anything. His head rocked back and forth, Kenny thinking that his head was going to snap off if Eric kept at it. If his muscles weren't still lagging from being fatigued and just waking up, he would've tried to claw at the fat boy or at least make some effort of defence.

"JUST TRYING TO RUIN ONE OF MY DEAD MOTHER'S MOST PRIZED POSSESSIONS?" Cartman snarled, although he knew that this was more about punishing Kenny than giving a rat's ass about his mother's furniture, "JUST BECAUSE SHE WASN'T YOUR REAL MOTHER DOESN'T MEAN YOU HAVE A RIGHT TO FUCK UP WHAT NOW BELONGS TO _ME_!" With that, he threw Kenny to the ground, slamming him against the small coffee table before letting him hit the ground.

"Fuck..." Kenny muttered, biting his lip to try and hold back the urge to cry out in too much pain. He felt blood start to dribble from his forehead, that bang to the table making yet another cut.

The blond heard two gasps, the girls covering their mouths in horror. They were used to Cartman's violent beatings, usually seeing Kenny getting physically abused once or twice a day, but this time it completely shattered their actually happy moods. To think they thought a few moments ago that Eric was being slightly kind to them... However, they knew that they were always treated better than their stepbrother to the point that they weren't allowed to talk to him nicely without threat of abuse. And helping him when he was in the middle of punishment was out of the question.

"I BET YOU THINK THIS IS ALL A JOKE, HUH KENNY?" The lord raved, kicking the blond in the stomach, "YOU THINK THAT IT'S JUST FINE FOR YOU TO _NOT WORK_ AND JUST DEFILE _MY_ PROPERTAH?"

Kenny curled up, clutching his stomach. "I CLEANED THE WHOLE FUCKING HOUSE!" He groaned, "THE WHOLE MOTHERFUCKING THING JUST LIKE YOU SAID! I—"

A foot to the cheek was a sure way to stop Kenny from squeezing in another word.

"YOU CALL THIS CLEAN?" Cartman shouted, pushing over the couch his mother apparently adored, a few bits of wood breaking off, "THIS ISN'T CLEAN! THIS IS SHIT!" He flipped over the coffee table, the thing tumbling before it slammed against the side of the fireplace, losing a leg and a half in the process.

"Shit..." Kenny mumbled, taking a hand off his stomach to rub his cheek. He fought to sit up, only for his eyes to widen in near horror at what Eric was doing to the room.

As though the boy really was a wild raging bull, Cartman went through the room, flipping over and destroying everything in his wake. Paintings were thrown from the walls, ornaments and books knocked from the shelves, furniture pushed over, and even parts of the wall scratched off. Mr. Kitty fled the scene, rushing past the appalled sisters who could only watch as all Kenny's work was undone and then octupled.

The blond dared not speak, already in enough pain from only a couple of good strong blows, nearly compelled to tears as hours of hard work became wasted time and days of additional fixing up added. _That goddamn son of a bitch..._

Cartman wasn't nearly done though. Even with the parlour in near shambles, his rage still wasn't satisfied. The fat boy charged past the girls, headed into the hall, a symphony of bangs and shatters filling the entire manor.

Wendy and Bebe stared out at what Eric was doing, all the damage he was causing, then looked to their fallen stepbrother, mouths gaping open, the gleam in their eyes telling Kenny that Cartman was going to bring the entire house to the ground before he was done.

Without saying a word, Kenny's expression asked 'Can't you two do _anything_?', desperately needing just a little compassion to get him on his feet and motivated again.

The sisters' eyes flickered to each other Kenny, back to one another, and finally back to Kenny. Both of them wanted to, well aware that Kenny, despite his sometimes perverted nature, was actually a good person deep down. But, they knew that trying to stop Eric when he was in such a state of throwing a hissy fit would only lead to either serious injury or worse.

So, even though they did want to help, the two valued their own one night of freedom and their current state of no broken bones more than they did attempting to aid Kenny. The risks were too great, and it was more than likely they'd fail anyway. However, that didn't stop Wendy and Bebe from feeling a well of guilt inside them, knowing that what they were doing was completely selfish. They looked away from Kenny, tearing their eyes from his pleading face. Bebe made sure her side bang covered her eye while Wendy fixed her shawl so she couldn't see her stepbrother as the sisters left the room, headed to the carriage, wanting to wait away from the madness.

Kenny vacantly stared at where the two stood, listening to the sonata of chaos composed by Eric Cartman, a hollow worthless feeling filling him. After so many years of putting up with all of Eric's crap, tonight was supposed to be his night to actually take a break and not have to worry about getting physically or verbally abused. He wasn't going to have to do any cleaning and just be able to loaf around and relax like what Cartman did all day.

But no, evidently he didn't deserve that luxury.

So, when the sounds of things being demolished and breaking finally ceased, Kenny felt like, somewhere along the way, part of him was broken in the destructive razing. He scarcely even noticed when Eric returned, brushing off some sawdust from his black suit.

"I expect the entire house to be _perfect_ when we get back," Cartman said slowly, demanding the impossible, "Get it?"

Kenny, after gazing at the boy he so loathed for a long moment, nodded, having no choice but to accept the undoable challenge and have to suffer whatever torture he was setting himself up for after he failed.

"Good boy," Cartman said, giving Kenny one last wicked smile before walking off down the hall, going to accompany his sisters to the royal ball and leave his stepbrother to sit in the ashes of his destruction.

Eventually, the footsteps faded, the sound of galloping horses pulling a carriage coming and going in almost no time. The blond glanced at the clock on that had been thrown to the floor but miraculously still worked.

Half past eight. That meant he'd have roughly four or five hours to entirely restore the manor to its most presiding state.

"Basically... I either need to hang myself now or hope for a motherfucking miracle..." Kenny muttered, ignoring the urges inside him that told him to ball his eyes out. Even though the situation was bleak, he refused to be a sobbing little pussy about it.

"You don't need a miracle!" A random British voice chimed from nowhere, "You just need a little _magic_!"

One thing and one thing alone crossed Kenny's mind.

"_WHAT THE FUCK?"

* * *

_

**A/N: Pff after trying for the entire week to work on this, I finally got another chapter knocked down. Phew! Well, I had schoolwork and all that bull. I know this chapter was more sad (I assume so since Kenny just got beaten) than funny...But hey it's necessary. And now I have all of spring break to write as much of this as I can. Hell, the fun part's about to get started! Teehee~ Random pointless author's note is random and pointless so I will shut up now. R&R! ~CQO**


	5. Pippidi Poppidi Poo!

At odd random cheer, Kenny looked around, searching the ruins of the room for the owner of the voice. His eyes flickered from left to right, wondering whether or not he just hit his head so hard he was hallucinating or whether a random homeless person had mistaken the manor for some wreck he could crash in.

He was in complete shock when, floating in the air in front of him, was a little boy with yellow hair beneath a Gatsby cap, sparkling sky blue eyes, and awkward faerie wings. The boy looked more like he belonged in a Dickens novel than hovering over Kenny, dressed up in a worn red smoking jacket and cool coloured trousers. A large brown bow tie covered his neck, looking as though it was far too big for him. In his left hand was a long jagged stick that looked like he just scooped it off the ground outside. Really, if Kenny had to think anything, he could've sworn his mind screwed itself so much it was playing tricks on him.

"DUDE..." Kenny said, rubbing his eyes and blinking, checking to see if the boy remained after that or fade like a figment of Kenny's imagination.

The boy didn't disappear, simply hovering and gazing at the dirty blond on the ground with a happy grin.

"'Ello ol' chap!" The odd faerie boy beamed, "I see you're in a spot of hard lines," He paused, taking a gander about the ramshackle once known as the parlour of Cartman Manor, "Oh that bloody awful brute certainly did a number on the place..."

"Who the fuck are you and why are you speakin' funny?" Kenny asked, wondering how it was possible for a little faggy French (Kenny was sure the kid was French...or something like that) faerie to be floating in his house.

"Hmm? Oh! Pardon me, I've yet to introduce myself," The little boy said, clearing his throat as he pulled a slip of paper from his jacket pocket, opening it up to read what was scrawled on it aloud, "I'm Pip, your substitute faerie godmother. Sadly your normally scheduled faerie godmother was grounded, so I'm to serve your magic needs of the night until you're chuffed!" His smile grew even wider, getting more energetic after finishing his little speech.

However, Kenny didn't understand British—or French as he assumed—speak, so he didn't understand a word Pip said; like it made sense from the start. _Faerie godmother...? Oh Christ, how much blood did I lose? I'm out of my fucking mind..._

As Pip watched Kenny's confused expression, his smile lowly turned to a small frown. Why did people always have trouble understanding _English_? Come on, his nation invented the language!

"Did you get a word I just said?" The faerie asked with a sigh, rolling his eyes.

"Not a damn clue." Kenny replied.

_Huh...he's a blunt one..._ Pip thought, _Then again he's likely really knackered from all that work cleaning..._

"Hmm...I suppose I'll have to put it in plainer local terms for you then," He thought a moment, trying to think of how that would all sound in this lesser form of proper English, "Basically, I've been assigned to use magic and make your dreams come true! There's a ball tonight, yes? Well I can make it so you can go and have the time of your life and—!"

"_PHAHAHAHAHAHA__!" _Kenny's hysterical laughter cut the Brit off, getting a kick out of the thought of him going to the ball. Oh, this had to be a dream! Him at the ball? Bull shit! They'd never let him through the doors! "Yeah right, Frenchie! I ain't goin' to no asshat party." He was at least denying the fact that he wanted to.

Pip shuddered. Oh lord, the grammar! It was horrible! And...Did he just call him _FRENCH?_ That certainly wouldn't do.

"_I'M BRITISH NOT FRENCH YOU LITTLE WANKER!" _Pip snapped, turning as red as his jacket, looking more like a devil than a faerie for a moment. He quickly returned to normal, though, only letting his temper flare for a moment, "Pardon my wobbler, I just can't be compared to those _frogs_."

"...Whatever," Kenny said, "Either way, even if I did wanna go—which I don't—I can't. See this place? I gotta clean the whole damn thing over again or Lord Anus Pus is gonna castrate me."

"Well that's why I'm here! Why, I know a little magic!" _Or at least the Muggles all assume every Brit knows some..._ "I'll turn you from a queer, piss poor servant to a posh gentleman worthy of any genteel gathering!"

"...Uh..." Kenny wasn't entirely sure what to say. _Why doesn't this kid speak English? And did he just call me a QUEER?_

"Oh, oh, I'll show you!" A delighted grin returned to the little boy's face as he raised the stick that served as his magic wand, "I'll turn these pear shaped shambles into the most smashing lodgings in the land! Now what were those words...?"

"Look, kid, lemme just—"

"AH! I REMEMBER! _**Pippili-Poppili-Poo**__!_"With a flick of the wrist, Pip waved his wand, a stream of white sparkles shooting out of it and covering the entire room.

Kenny couldn't help but snicker. Whether Pip knew it or not, that was funny for a _lot_ of reasons.

However, the laughter soon died down as a miracle occurred. All the diamond-like sparkles created a glowing, shimmering aura around everything—from the shattered figurines to the broken furniture and even to the scratches on the wall—and started fixing up everything! The small knick-knacks glued themselves together, levitating back to the shelves they called home. The furniture tumbled in reverse, as though someone pressed a rewind button and restored it to how it was before Cartman flipped it over. The walls mended themselves, wall paper coming together as though it were a cut on skin that healed instantaneous. The entire house literally put itself back together. And actually by _magic_.

"Well fuck me..." The servant muttered in awe. That was it; this _had_ to be a fantasy. There was no way something like this could happen, right? It was all a dream!

"Oh, come now Kenny, don't be a blinkered!" Pip said, descending a few centimetres so he was closer to the poor soul he was assigned, "You must be thinking that this is a farce, but I swear to you it's not! You're not buggered, lad! In fact, you can now go to the ball!"

The teen on the ground was still in silent disbelief, thinking his situation over carefully. _Well...even if this is a dream...I ain't wakin' up it seems...And...I guess if this IS a dream...the rich folk party won't be all that crappy...Hell, maybe I'll pick up a couple rich chicks!_

"Well, I guess since there ain't much else to do around here..." Kenny grumbled, "I may as well go to the goddamn ball..." Dream or not, he was still going to act like this was all Pip's idea instead of getting excited like a pansy who just couldn't wait for some nice aristocratic festivities, "But I betcha they'll throw me right out if I go lookin' like this." An injured dirty servant boy would surely be welcome in the high elite circles of the kingdom. Even if commoners were going as well, Kenny looked far worse than a mere commoner.

The Nancy boy faerie's smile nearly glowed like a star, happy to finally get Kenny to agree on going. What would happen if he rejected? Oh, then he'd waste his night of dream come true! And that would just be horrid!

"Right-o! Although, you do make good point..." He looked over Kenny's state, "But I can fix you up! And get you a carriage and horses too!"

"Uh-huh...So I guess my second wish is to not look like shit." Kenny said.

"Faeries are different than genies; we don't have a limit," Pip rolled his eyes at him again, then raised his wand, "Now, I-I don't know if I mentioned this before, but I'm not the best with my magic...Or fashion..."

"Wait, SO YOU'RE BULL SHITTING ALL OF THIS?" That was always pleasant to know just before having experimental magic being cast upon oneself.

"Don't worry! I-I-I'm sure you'll be fine, any road!" The boy let out a shaky, nervous chuckle before waving his wand again, "_**PIPPILI POPPILI POO!"**_

Kenny shut his eyes, dreading the sparkles that came from the wand. Sure, the kid did a good job cleaning the house; but what if that was all he _could_ do? What if he gave Kenny a second head or something? Oh so many horrible things could happen if his faerie godmother fucked up his magic!

A tingling feeling crawled all over Kenny's skin, the magic doing its work. All the cuts and bruises healed, black and blue turning back to an even fair peach as the scraps sewed themselves together. The dirt and dust vanished, the remaining magic glitter acting as soap to clean the boy up. His unkempt blond locks untangled, combing itself before his _grew_. It was at that point when things started to get awkward.

Things had been going just fine until Kenny felt long fluid strands of hair flow over his shoulder and down his back, the extensions not exactly normal for a boy. The tattered rags Kenny wore transformed, although the short legs merged to make a skirt, the cloth then fanning out until that skirt became a dress. The holes mended as the two pieces of clothing turned to one, the old white cotton turning to fine orange satin.

Kenny opened his eyes, looking at what the faerie was doing to him, only to see that he was in the girliest, poofiest, and most uncomfortable dress likely ever created. The petticoat beneath the satin scratched his legs, driving Kenny crazy. The velvet tangerine gloves that climbed up his arms may have been pretty, but they already made his entire arm feel sweaty from the heavy fabric. The chiffon puff sleeves made it seem like some random carroty head was always in his peripheral vision, not to mention the fact that they basically clawed into the top of his arms where the actual sleeve was. The waistline seemed to be two sizes smaller than the upper chest area. He knew there were reasons for that, but that didn't stop the discomfort of having strong fabric force an hour-glass figure. He felt some sort of headband around his head, hugging his skull with a boa constrictor's grip. But, worst of all, a pair of glass stilettos adorned his feet, the toes coming to a point that squeezed Kenny's toes tightly together. And he hadn't even tried _walking_ in them yet!

"Oh bollocks..." Pip muttered, biting his lip, trying to hide the wand as if no one would know he cast the spell if he did.

"What. The fuck. Did you do to me?" Kenny asked, eye twitching as he looked himself over. He'd rather go to the ball dressed as dirty filthy servant boy than as a _girl_!

"I-it seems that in my haste...I...erm...accidently gave you ladies apparel..." Pip tugged on his collar, letting a few gauche chuckles. He had a feeling he's screw up somehow...

Kenny snapped his head and glared at Pip, the desire to beat him to pixie dust rising. He was already regretting admitting that he wanted to go to the ball, and he'd yet to even arrive. But really, what would happen if he went? He'd get hit on my rich guys if they thought he was a chick, slapped by rich girls for thinking he was a lesbian, and then there was the fact that he'd be labelled a crossdressing faggot if they found out he was just a boy showing up in a dress!

Pip gulped, paling at the sight of the angered blue irises locked on him. _Oh bloody hell... what did I get my arse into accepting this? All I've done is create aggro! _

"D-don't fret, Kenny!" Pip piped, "Look in the mirror! Why no one will figure out your facade! You can fool more than just a typical mug! You don't look like rubbish that simply wandered into the palace, so you'll be welcomed as an honoured guest, and you look _blinding_! As long as you act like a lady," _If that's plausible..._ "Then you'll still have a smashing time! In fact, there's no doubt you will! Even if you can't get a girl, there is always the option of filching some good food from the buffet table!" There was always that option.

"WHY I OUGHTA-!" Kenny barked, quickly standing up. He swooned, the glass shoes proving to have rather low stability.

"Just take a gander in the mirror, mate!" Pip said, flying up so he was out of Kenny's range as he madly gestured towards the mirror on the wall, "Just look at yourself a moment and see how it could work out!"

Kenny narrowed his eyes at Pip a moment, a low gargling growl coming from his throat before he turned his attention to the mirror. He could barely tell it was him at first, his reflection acting more like a painting of a pretty—yes, _pretty_—young lady rather than the grimy servant Kenny really was. Aside from the dress giving off the feminine feel, Kenny's blond hair went from being short to falling down to just past the shoulders. The headband he felt pinching his head ended up being a sparkly tiara, only adding to the girly effect. Makeup of no, Kenny could see himself passing off as a girl, not even needing to alter his facial features. _I guess that means I'm a pretty man...Greeeeeat..._

Pip, meanwhile, crossed his fingers, watching Kenny stare at his reflection in anticipation. This all had to go well! It just had to! This was his big break for being an official faerie godmother! And if he screwed up...He'd be more than just fired.

"If it makes you feel better..." The faerie muttered, "You'd make a jolly gorgeous girl..."

Kenny glowered at Pip, not wanting to be reminded about the fact that he looked like a girl, let alone a beautiful one. What was that supposed to say about his manliness?

_Well...I look like a spoiled rich bitch... _Kenny thought, looking over the 'girl' in the mirror carefully, _Hell I barely even recognise me...'Sides if Cartman or the bitches see me I can just whip my hair back and forth or shove a cocktail in my face...Mmm...them royals are gonna have a big dinner...A nice...smoking...meaty...dinner...And even if I get asked by guys I can just knock 'em in the teeth...And maybe I can get a girl to go gay for me if I get real lucky..._

"What the hell," He shrugged, looking back up at Pip, "I'm already in a dress, may as well go to the stupid party."

Glee poured from Pip's eyes, an elated beam coming to his face. Yes! He did it! He actually did it!

"Smashing!" He cheered, "Why, all you need is a ride, and you can be on your way! Now what to do for transport..." He trailed off into thought.

"Can't ya just zap me there?" Kenny rolled his eyes. _Not to mention make more comfortable shoes..._

"You need to make an entrance, my lad! OH I'VE GOT AN ACE IDEA!" Pip yelled, catching a glimpse of a miniature horse and carriage figurine set, "Why not just use what we've already got? It isn't as though we have nowt!" He aimed his wand at the figurines, "_Pippili Poppili Poo!"_

"WAIT! WE'RE INSIDE-!"

"_NEEEEEEEEEEEEEIGH!_"The magic had already begun its work once again, animating the horses as they grew from a few centimetres to a few metres just as the carriage had. Just add magic and _instant growth_!

"Whoops!" Realising blunder, Pip flicked his wrist again, engulfing the growing horses and carriage, Kenny, and himself in a cloud of magic golden dust, teleporting them all outside the manor.

The blond in the dress looked wildly around, not expecting the change in scenery at all, glancing all around the darkened courtyard until he finally focused on the full-grown horses and the elegant pearl carriage.

"Nearly botched up that one," Pip sighed, "Any road, once we get a coachman, you'll be all ready to go! But where to find one..."

"Can't _you_ drive the carriage?" Kenny inquired, "Or can't the damn thing drive itself it's magic?"

"Merow!" Mr. Kitty ambled over, curiosity senses activated by the sudden appearance of the two blonds and the carriage. The grey cat prowled up to the horses, staring up at the horses in amazement, tail curled around his legs. How the hell did these things get here all of a sudden?

The horses all stared back at the cat, snorting at his dumbfounded wonder.

"HIM!" Pip exclaimed, "He's perfect!"

"Who? _Mr. Kitty_?" Kenny tried to imagine Mr. Kitty driving a coach to take him to the ball, barely keeping a straight face.

"_Pippili Poppili Poo!"_ Pip waved his wand once more, sending a burst of magic at the unsuspecting kitty.

A cloud of blinding glitter encompassed Mr. Kitty, one last "MEROW?" leaving the animal before disappearing in the glimmering gold. The horses whinnied, stomping their hooves as they tried to comprehend what in blazes was going on.

From the puff of sparkles, a person grew up, Mr. Kitty turning from a grey furred green eyed cat into a short, pump old man with ash hair, cat's eyes, and a coachman's uniform that perfectly matched Kenny's outfit.

"MR. KITTY?" Kenny's mouth gaped open.

"Are you ready to go to the ball, merow, Kenny?" The now human Mr. Kitty asked, speaking in an elegant accent of a proper aristocratic servant (one of the lucky ones that were treated with some form of respect and actually got paid for their work).

Kenny was silent, things crossing a new line of weird. _I'm gonna need to have a good long talk with myself when I wake up from this fucked up dream..._

"Go get to your post, Mr. Kitty," Pip answered for the other, "I just need to tell the lad a few more things before sending him on his way."

Mr. Kitty nodded, walking past the still alarmed horses to climb to the driver's seat.

"Now, Kenny, this is _really_ important," Pip told the blond slowly, "Unless you return to the manor before then, this magic will only last until _midnight_. That means if your arse isn't in the manor when the clock strikes twelve, the mansion will return to that shambolic state it was in before, Mr. Kitty and the figurines will revert to their natural states, and you will go back to the bloody abused slave boy status you were in before. Understand?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Kenny said, not really listening to a word the faerie said, "I'll obey my fucking curfew. Twelve o'clock and I'll be curled up in the cinders like none of this shit ever happened."

"Good," Pip nodded, "Now enough fannying around, my boy!" He flew to Kenny's back, pushing him towards the carriage, "You haven't much time!"

"Hey!" Kenny barked, stumbling as the little Brit pushed him into the carriage.

"Go dance! Be gay!" Pip merrily yelled, giving Kenny one last push into the coach before shutting the door, "Now off you go! Pip pip, cheerio! You're on your way!~"

At the slam of the carriage door, Mr. Kitty slapped the reins, each of the horses letting out a whiney before trotting to the manor gates, headed for the castle. Kenny turned to yell at the faerie for the gay comment, only to see the little Brit vanish in a puff of sparkles as the carriage rode farther and farther away from the grand Cartman manor, leaving the gates with sights set on the palace.

Kenny groaned, leaning back on the cushioned seat of the coach, crossing his arms. _Well, even if that little French shit thinks this dress'll make me homo, I ain't lettin' that stop me from havin' a good time. _He smirked to himself, actually thinking that going to the ball may prove to be fun after all. _Well this is gonna be interestin' alright._

* * *

**A/N: Hurray! Another chapter! Oh god, I thought I'd have this done a lot sooner, but I've been busy with work and then the ever so taunting new plot bunnies. Yeah, I should be using Spring Break to RELAX but I've somehow stressed myself out and have been in a srs business mood since it started. Ugh that was probably why part of me wasn't sure about trying to update since I've been feeling more serious than comedic. Why so serious, me? And why so British, Pip? I hope you understood the British slang, I was using a website to try and find some outlandish terms. And if there are any Brits reading it, I'm sorry if I messed anything up or confused you as well. Any road (Psh ANYWAY), stay tuned so Kenny can make his appearance at the ball, not to mention finally seeing Prince Kyle of the Broflovskis and his entourage Lord Stanley and Sir Clyde. Oh god I need to stop updating at five in the morning. I should also stop saying that since I'll just do it again. At least I can sleep in peace since I FINALLY updated.**

** ANYWHO R&R my pretties, I do like hearing from you! Hopefully my mood will pick up so I can put in another update before a rather hellish week of school that awaits me. Sadly I don't have a faerie godmum to save my arse from play practice. Good day (or night whatever time of day it is when you're reading me ramble)! ~CQO**


	6. Bet on the Oblivious

"Kyle!" Duke Stanley Marsh shouted, knocking on the door to his best friend and prince of the kingdom's room, "Dude, hurry up! You're already late for your own party!"

The guests had all—for the most part—already arrived, the ballroom crowded with people chatting and eating fine finger foods while the orchestra played a mellow, warm melody to set the mood for the formal gathering. There were aristocrats and commoners alike, however the commoners breezed in and out, loitering by the buffet table and leaving when their bellies (and in some cases, their pockets) were stuffed. All those below the rank of a lord, though, saw little point in being there; all they'd serve as would be schadenfreude to give their superiors a good 'ha ha'. Even if there was the possibility that the prince would chose a commoner as his bride, such a thing rarely happened, and the prince wasn't even there yet! The nobles all murmured in anxious anticipation, wondering when the hell the star of the ball would come down from his room and let the party _really_ begin.

Really, Kyle should've been on the dance floor an hour ago, but he kept saying he needed more time to get ready. In that time, the bitchy queen sent her son's entourage of two up to persuade him to come out and mingle.

"Stan," Sir Clyde Donavan of Goodmen said, his slightly heavy set frame leaning on the wall opposite the door, "Maybe we should just go back down to the party... He doesn't wanna come out."

Stan spun around, his ocean blue eyes glowering at the brown haired noble who dared suggest they give up. Stan wasn't just worried about the possibility of the queen killing them for not coaxing Kyle out; he was worried about Kyle in general. They _were_ best friends, and it was obvious that Kyle had been dreading this night since the announcement. All it was to him was a way of screaming 'GET A GODDAMN GIRLFRIEND ALREADY'. Although Stan and Clyde were still single as well, they'd at least shown interest in courting while Kyle avoided it like the plague.

"No way dude, he's gotta come out," Stan icily said, "Now help me before I get desperate and use your skull as a battering ram."

"Fine, fine," Clyde grumbled, walking over to help Stan in his efforts to get the prince out of his room, "Don't get violent."

"It was the only way to get you to move your lazy ass," Stan muttered under his breath as Clyde pounded on the door. The duke then turned his attention back to yelling at Kyle, "KYLE! COME ON! _KYLE!"_

The hammering of fists shook the prince's door, the young man inside watching it shake from the mirror. Kyle knew the whole time that he'd have to go through with it—although he really didn't see why it was so crucial for him to pick a bride—but that still didn't mean he would do it without a fight. And by fight, that meant being a stubborn little bitch about it until he'd wasted a good amount of time first.

At first, the prince was silent, eyes flickering between the trembling door the mirror showed and his own reflection. As the prince, Kyle automatically had the best everything—to the finest wool suit dyed with the richest green to the best made shoes (product of the Donavon house no less)—but that certainly didn't include moods.

_Why the fuck do I have to find a random girl and marry her?_ He thought, adjusting his regal lime ushanka to waste more time, rearranging the red curls that refused to hide beneath the royal headgear, _I may be the prince...but I still don't see what's so great about having a damn princess...Why the hell do I need a...WIFE...just to rule a kingdom? I thought women didn't even have any rights around here..._

"KYLE!" Stan's voice came from the other side of the door, sounding as amused as Kyle was when he heard about the party, "YOU READY OR DO WE HAVE TO GET YOUR MOM?"

"I'M COMING, GODDAMMIT!" Kyle finally shouted, emerald eyes glaring at the door as he brushed one last stray curl out of his eye before turning to leave his room. His stomach churned, trying to threaten him with throwing up if he actually went through with the royal bullshit he was being put up to. _But I have to..._ Kyle reminded himself with a sigh, opening the door and putting on a simper for Clyde and Stan to try and mask his discomfort.

Clyde and Stan stood there, staring at their royal friend and looking him over. He looked like he was ready enough for the party, although the gleam in his eyes and the curve to his lips said otherwise. Clyde tried to smile back, wanting to comfort Kyle a bit by encouraging the cheer. Meanwhile, Stan frowned, knowing that Kyle could do a little bit better than that. He was well aware that the redhead would much rather turn right around, lay on his bed, and enjoy a nice novel while the rest of the nobles partied (he'd done it before, after all); but his approach seemed slightly too negative. _God and I thought __**I **__was the pessimist..._ Stan thought.

Kyle's forced smile faded into a frown similar to the one his best friend wore, looking between the two boys with a growing concern lurching on him. He wasn't the best actor, and the fact that Clyde and Stan mimicked the theatre mask duo only made it clearer.

"Am I that obvious?" Kyle asked, biting his lip and looking to the side. Social gatherings weren't his cup of tea, but after all these years he still couldn't feign an 'I'm thrilled to go to this party' look? Or perhaps the circumstances overshadowed his ability to fake a somewhat enjoyable time.

Clyde and Stan looked at each other, and then back at Kyle, the both of them slowly nodding their heads in unison.

"Not gonna lie dude, but you look like you did at Ike's Bris..." The ebony haired one admitted.

"Yeah..." Clyde agreed, "Don't worry though, Kyle. You won't need to be there long. Just go down there, flirt, pick a chick, and then go back to bed."

Stan gave Clyde an odd look. He knew that this was _Kyle_ they were talking to, right? Kyle who tended to steer clear of female interaction and who knew as much about flirting as Stan's father knew about alcohol limits...

Kyle groaned, the only part of that plan he liked being the going to sleep part. "Look, I don't see why this has any importance to me at all really," Kyle said, "I mean, I'm a prince and all, but all this needing a princess thing..." An uneasy look came to his eyes, trailing off just thinking about it. He didn't _want_ a princess or even _care_ about royalty!

"I understand, man," Clyde said, thinking that he understood, "You're just like..._that_."

"_Clyde!"_ Stan nearly slapped the boy upside the head, "What the _fuck?"_ He knew well what Clyde was implying.

Kyle, on the other hand, did not. "...Like what...?" Kyle inquired, raising a brow in curiosity.

Clyde opened his mouth to explain that he was trying to say that Kyle wasn't interested in girls because he liked _boys_; but Stan covered the brown-haired boy's mouth before he could say that. Kyle was completely oblivious; that was it right? Stan wouldn't really care either way, but he wasn't going to deal with Kyle sitting through the ball depressed about having to pick a bride _and_ questioning his sexual preference to make him a _really_ socially awkward downer.

"He means," Stan laughed nervously, smiling to try and suppress the pain he was getting from Clyde biting down on his fingers for covering his mouth, "Kyle, is that you're more calculating and care about the people you hang out with, and thus you want to chose the person you have to spend the rest of your life with carefully and not just randomly pick even though you don't want to do this in the first place." He was basically spewing out complete bullshit, but as long as Kyle bought it, Stan would be content.

The redhead stared at the duke a long moment, processing his words. Clyde seemed to have had something else to say...although Stan did make a point. Kyle wasn't just going to pick _anyone_ (though he didn't want to pick _anyone _in the first place) especially if he was planning on spending God knows how much of his life with them. Stan really did know him well...They were practically brothers they were so close. So what was to stop Kyle from believing him and just shrugging what Clyde was actually about to say off? _Nothing._

"Yeah...you got me there, man..." Kyle said, glancing over at the clock. Well, he'd only missed a good hour and a half or so of his ball; he might as well make his appearance 'fashionably late', "So I guess I should go to the ball now..."

"Well we could always wait til your Mom comes and pulls us all down by the ears," Stan teased, taking his hand of Clyde's mouth, waving it a bit to try and ease the pain of his bitten middle finger. Clyde snorted; wishing Stan just let him say what he was positive was true.

"Let's not go there," Kyle said, walking between the two and heading towards the party, "She's already gonna kill me for being late."

Stan took a step forward to follow Kyle, only for Clyde to put a hand on his shoulder and stop him.

"Dude, I bet you a hundred crowns Kyle hooks up with a guy tonight." Clyde whispered, snickering a bit at the thought. He had a feeling, and he was sticking to it.

"Clyde," Stan grumbled, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "Just because he's shy around girls doesn't make him automatically gay."

"No, it doesn't, that's why it's a bet," Clyde stated, "If he gets with a guy, you give me a hundred crowns, but if he's with a chick, I'll give you a hundred. How's that for a deal, huh?"

Stan groaned, giving Clyde a narrow eyed look, "Whatever, Clyde... If he hooks up with someone in a dress, then you pay me. But if he gets with a guy...I'll pay ya."

"Deal," Clyde smirked.

"Hey, are you two coming?" Kyle called from the other end of the corridor, not wanting to go out there alone.

"Coming, Kyle!" Stan and Clyde chirped in unison, hurrying down the hall to join their friend, both of them a bit eager to see just how this bet would go over.

* * *

Ow...ow...Aw MOTHERFUCKER!" Kenny grumbled, walking up the elegant steps of the royal palace, "How the hell do girls walk in these things?" He'd only walked for a short time before he came to despise heels, and then there was the fact that _glass_ _stilettos_ weren't exactly made for comfort. But what was made for comfort? Definitely not the ball gown, all the fabric (marvellous as it was) awkwardly fitting his body solely because he was a _boy_ wearing a _dress_.

He'd been escorted safely to the ball by the means of the humanised Mr. Kitty, getting dropped off at the gates before the former cat left to indulge in the life of the common human for a few hours before resuming his languid existence for the family feline. Kenny didn't mind, thinking the cat may as well enjoy the night while he did. That was, if he got to the top of the staircase with his feet still intact.

"That gay little faerie better hope no one knows who I am..." Kenny went on, flipping some of the extensions of his blond hair from falling over his shoulders to flowing behind, "Or I'm gonna shove a teapot so far up his ass he'll be lucky if he can still the Eiffel Tower straight..."

At last, Kenny reached the top of the stairs, coming face to face with the open welcoming doors into the glorious entrance hall. A warm gold glow emitted from the massive chandeliers, glittering balls of light hanging high above the mosaic marble floor. Brighter light came from a hallway to the boy's left, that being way to the ballroom, where the real party was.

The blond did take a moment to admire the entrance hall, eyes twinkling as he stared up at the chandeliers. The Broflovskis were the royal family for a reason, but the amount of luxury still blew him back. _No wonder the fatass bitches about them all the time...he's probably just jelly..._

Stumbling a bit, Kenny started walking towards the hall to the ballroom, muttering little groans of pain with every step as he held his dress so he wouldn't trip and fall flat on his face just after he got fixed up. He wouldn't be all too surprised if that dress caused him damage...though the shoes were doing more than enough. If it weren't for the dress code and the fact that he'd be leaving bloody footprints everywhere; he would've dumped the shoes ages ago.

Kenny, after a rather painful trek, made it to the ballroom, standing at the top of yet another fanciful staircase that led down to the crowded room filled with all the guests. As he looked about the crowd, he saw drinking, eating, social mingling, dancing, and all the other typical activities of a snobby ball. The crowd was like a rainbow, not a single colour left out. Everyone dressed in vivid dresses and suits, some which were blinding to the boy atop the stairs.

"Damn..." He muttered, taking one more step, his foot right at the edge of where the stairs began. However, Kenny's poor manoeuvring in high heels caused him to nearly slip on the marble.

"SHIIIIIIIIIT!" He hissed loudly, wobbling as he started falling forward. The stairway had to have at least forty steps, meaning that a tumbling course down would be painful. Especially in the killer orange dress and the glass stilettos of doom.

The blond flailed his arms, searching for the railing, hoping he'd grab it before falling down...

* * *

**A/N: Hurray I got to write more~ Ugh, this chapter was actually supposed to be longer, but I decided to split it in two :P betcha y'all hate me for leaving it at Kenny about to fall down the stairs-possibly snapping his neck on the way down!-and only like just introducing Kyle. But hey, Kyle finally came in! And Stan and Clyde are being awesome friends by betting on his dating abilities. We'll just need to see how their bet works out now shall we?**

**Well gaiz, now is the part of the author's note when I go "YOU SHOULD ALL REVIEW SO I WRITE MORE" since-cause I have a couple things I gotta update-I'm going by who wants what more and what muse is more active. But the two connect usually so REVIEW DAMMIT :D otherwise who knows what will happen! Will Kenny fall down the stairs? Who'll win the bet? Is Kyle going to get a hint about anything? Is the author ever going to stop asking the readers random questions? Tune in next update for more cracktastic fairytale faggotry you all love! ~CQO**


	7. Wild Party Chases

Kyle, like many other of the party-goers, whipped around to look at the stairs at the sound of the profanity. Swearing wasn't typically the most welcome sound in the royal court, so most of the aristocrats had scowls and disgusted scorns on their faces, wondering what on earth could cause such an outburst. Kyle, being far more observant than the superficial guests, could tell that someone was in trouble (even if he didn't usually handle people in trouble).

His eyes widened as he looked at the one at the top of the staircase, emerald stare fixed on the blond in orange. Time slowed down, extending the moments of the blond's fall so Kyle could stare, looking over the other. Of course, for all he knew, he was staring at the most beautiful _girl_ he'd ever laid eyes on, watching 'her' hair flow as she stumbled, some form of grace in her uncouth manner. The lights of the chandeliers reflected on the satin, making the fabric nearly glow like a star, although the tangerine colour also added to bringing out the sapphire eyes wide open in shock.

He blinked several times, an odd feeling starting to swirl around inside him. God, was he sick? Parties tended to do that to him...yet this was a different sick. It was a...comforting sick...

However, Kyle couldn't stare forever without realising what was going on; the blond was about to fall right down the steps and break a bone!

"Shit..." The prince muttered under his breath, pushing a few people out of his way as he weaved through the aristocrats, wanting to get a better view and hoping the blond wouldn't get hurt.  
Stan and Clyde noticed Kyle take off, catching a glimpse of the redhead bullet off from the corners of their eyes.

"Kyle?" Stan called, wheeling around on his heels, searching the masses for the green-capped prince, wondering whether or not Kyle was trying to ditch the party or what. He finally spotted the boy on his way towards the entry stairs. "KYLE!" Stan shouted, rushing after his friend, following his footsteps through the crowd.

"Hey!" Clyde blinked, and then took off after the other two, "Wait up!" He did have a bet to win.

"Kyle!" Stan kept calling, although the prince couldn't hear the ebon boy over his racing thoughts. _Please don't fall..._ Kyle thought, practically entranced by the newcomer, _Oh god please don't fall...

* * *

_

Just then and in the nick of time, Kenny's hand grasped the railing, saving him from tumbling down the staircase in front of everyone. He swayed a little, trying to maintain proper footing again as he brushed some hair from his eyes with his free hand.

_Well that was fucking close..._ Kenny thought, standing up straight and looking out at the crowd again, only to see nearly every set of eyes on him. _So much for laying low...

* * *

_

Kyle stopped running, smiling when he saw that the blond managed not to fall. He breathed a tad on the heavier side, catching his breath after the sprint.

Even as his breathing pattern returned to normal, the Jew still felt his heart pounding in his chest as he continued to gaze upon the blond, something about the one atop the stairs just oh so alluring...

"KY!" Stan and Clyde finally caught up, slowing down as they neared the redhead.  
Kyle didn't turn to greet them, keeping his eyes on _'her'_.

Stan leaned on Kyle a bit, damning his asthma. Hell, he may I've done more sports type things than Kyle, but his lungs still got a bit strained every now and then from sprints like that.

"What are," Clyde asked between breaths, "Looking at...Kyle?"

"_Her_..."

* * *

"Hey, hey Wendy," Bebe said in a hushed whispering yell, trying to seem discreet while catching her sister's attention. She pulled on the dark-haired girl's shawl, eager to have her look in the direction she was.

"Bebe," Wendy whispered, a tad irritated as she finished her last sip of frizzy cocktail, "What the hell is it?" She didn't even have time to look over at the stairs, distracted by getting some food in her stomach. Eric was doing the same, but to a more gluttonous extent.

"Look," Bebe pointed between a few other nobles, gesturing towards the Jewish prince, "That's _him_!"

Wendy squinted a bit, "Is he the one with the black hair?" _Because if he is then maybe you will have competition tonight..._

"No, no, not him!" Bebe shook her head, "The ginger with the sweet ass!"

Wendy looked at the one fitting Bebe's description, easily seeing that the prince was the one the dark haired boy was leaning on. _He looks sorta scrawny...But cute...I guess..._ If anything, Wendy would rather meet the prince's friend.

"Oh him..." she nodded.

"I wanna try and talk to 'im," the blonde giggled, leaving Wendy's side and sneaking through the crowd.

That was when Wendy noticed something; Kyle was staring-not just staring, _gawking_-over something.

Well, some_one_.

Her hazel eyes followed the invisible path of Kyle's stare, leading her to her guised stepbrother.

_Uh oh... _Wendy bit her lip, moving to follow her sister, _Bebe's not gonna be too happy about this...

* * *

_

"Heehee..." Kenny smiled awkwardly at everyone, altering the pitch of his voice a tad too sound more girlish. He gave the nobles a small wave, wiggling his fingers more than anything. He heard the orchestra die down a little, only aiding in fuelling the awkward atmosphere.

_Well this sucks...

* * *

_

"Her?" Stan and Clyde looked up to see the blond, and then looked back at one another a moment, silently exchanging shocked looks. Clyde was more concerned about the bet, thinking that this could be the reason he'd be out a good hundred crowns. Stan, on the other hand, was more in shock that Kyle was suddenly showing interest in someone. "_HER_?"

"K-Ky...?" Stan slowly raised a brow, "You mean the one in orange...?" _There's something kinda funny about her... Though I have no idea what..._

Kyle nodded, watching the blond stand frozen from the awkward air. He didn't notice the atmosphere; he didn't notice anything aside from Kenny!

And there was some strange force-some odd feeling-that was just drawing him to the blond... Although he had no clue what it was...

Or why he felt a little tight.

* * *

Kenny bit his lip, eyes wandering around the room. Why did everyone have to be looking at him? Why? Oh god if everyone was looking at him did that include Cartman and the girls? What if one of them recognised him! Oh he'd be dead then.

_I gotta mix with the crowd insteada standin' here like an idiot..._ He thought, looking at his feet. Well he was going to have to head down the steps one way or another; so he may as well take another crack in walking down in the glass heels of paediatric pain.

Ever so carefully, Kenny took a step down, biting his lip a bit harder when the shoes seemed to constrict more around his foot.

"Ow..." He groaned, finding these shoes even more painful than some of Cartman's daily tortures. The blond started to descend, muttering "Ow..." under his breath with every step lower. He wobbled a little, only causing him to grip the rail tighter to keep from another collapse. With everybody's eyes glued to him, Kenny was not up for looking like the laughing stock of the ball.

_God, why won't these people just fuck off?_ Kenny thought angrily, _God even posing as a girl everyone's judging the shit I do... What the fuck did I get myself into?

* * *

_

The prince's gaze remained locked on the brilliant blond in the stunning dress, absorbing everything about 'her' as 'she' descended the staircase. His heart fluttered in his chest like a hummingbird while his mind raced, trying to comprehend the feeling only to be further distracted by the newest arrival.

Kyle was in a trance, enchanted by the godlike presence of the blond. He watched the flowing locks wave slightly with every step, his fingers tingling at the desire to run through the strands of gold. He admired the sapphires, wanting to watch them sparkle, yearning to get closer to see them in their full beauty rather than from afar. And, most shocking of all to the naive prince, was how he was stuck on the lips, disregarding the fact that they were a tad chapped, just wanting to cut loose and let the magnetic attraction between his and those of the blond's bind them together. _I think I've been reading too much Austen..._ Kyle thought, questioning every odd new emotion that seemed to blossom out of nowhere.

"She's pretty flat." Clyde bluntly stated.

"Shut up," Stan rolled his eyes at the remark, "It doesn't matter how big her tits are, it matters how she acts!" He looked back over at the blond. Kenny was making his way down, moving with the grace of a blue footed booby. _Something is seriously off about her..._ Stan thought again, though he shook it off for the sake of Kyle finding a princess (and a bit for winning the bet), "...Even if she's not that graceful."

"She is graceful!" Kyle argued, biting his tongue when he saw his 'belle' contradict his words by nearly tripping down the last few steps, "Just...in a unique way that makes her stick out from all the other girls."

"Her lack of boobs probably makes her stick out to you..." Clyde muttered sourly.

Stan shot him a glare, throwing a pinch at Clyde's arm.

"HEY!" Clyde growled, rubbing his arm.

"How about you go talk to her, hmm?" Stan gave his redheaded best friend a reassuring smile, "It's your damn party; you're supposed to talk to people aside from me and Clyde the whole time."

Kyle tore his stare from the newcomer to the azure pools of the duke. He pursued his lips, the fluttering fabulous feeling inside him doubling over with nervousness, making his stomach churn. Being social was one thing Kyle could somewhat BS; beige social with girls was not.

"But what if I-" He started to protest, only for Stan to take a kosher pig in a blanket into the Jew's mouth, silencing him with the hors d'oeuvre.

"Calm down Kyle, you can do this," Stan sternly said, pushing Kyle in the direction of his most fancied guest, "Just go."

Kyle gulped down the small appetiser as the duke pushed him into the crowd, soon slipping into the sea of nobles and out of the other boys' sights.

"I still don't believe this," Clyde mumbled.

"Scared that you're gonna owe me a hundred crowns, Clyde?" Stan smirked.

"The night's still young, Marsh, and he has to get the guys to talk to her first." A wicked smirk came to his face.

"Kyle can do it," The black-haired boy said, "I know he can!" Stan couldn't help but feel a lingering doubt tack on to his words. _Don't pussy out Kyle...Seriously man..._ "But...we should follow him just to be sure."

The smirk that came to the other's face only made Stan regret adding that. Clyde snickered, "Losing confidence in your super best friend, hmm?" He raised a brow, "Or are you worried that you'll be out a hu—"

"Shut up and come the fuck on," Stan barked, grabbing Clyde's arm and tugging him behind as he started after Kyle, "I thought you'd wanna watch this more than anyone if he's as bad with girls as you think he is."

Clyde's smirk widened at the thought. "Well...I can't argue with that logic."

* * *

"Fuck!" Bebe frowned, reaching the area where the prince and his entourage stood moments ago, only finding that the three had disappeared, "They're gone..."

"Bebe..." Wendy groaned, catching up to the blonde, "Don't be a stalker, I think we should let the prin—"

"WAIT!" Bebe held her hand in front of Wendy's face to silence her, looking around for a glimpse of the star of the ball, "We can still find him! I know it! He couldn't have gone far!"

Wendy sighed, massaging her temples. As much as she admired the blonde's determination, this was going slightly too far. Especially since she knew that he was looking at someone else earlier... _I'm not gonna tell her that, though... She's actually been having some fun for once... Actually, __**I**__'m the one who's been a stick in the mud still... Oh Christ..._

"Maybe we should just talk to a few other boys until we see him again rather than mess up our outfits pushing through the crowd all night," She proposed, smiling weakly, trying to appear as though she wasn't nervous about her sister's already slim chances crushing her rather overblown dreams, "Come on, if you talk to some other boys then he'll be totally jealous and want to talk to you more." As shallow as she worded it (and as much as she hated wording it so simplistically), it was a bit of reverse psychology. That and it was a way for Bebe to possibly get another boy to talk to rather than her hopes of the prince being completely dashed.

The blonde looked at her sister, at first a bit confused, but then letting a smile grow on her face. That didn't sound like a bad idea.

"I guess that could work... But let's at least find some cuties to talk to instead of a bunch of old farts!" Bebe cheered, taking off again, unknowingly following the boys' path.

A few 'old farts' turned around, sneering at the girls. The dark-haired one bit her lip, giving the men apologetic looks before awkwardly darting after her sister again. _Jesus Christ if I knew we'd be running around this much I would've worn flats...

* * *

_

Kenny, after finally walking all the way down the stairs, managed to shake everyone's attention, most losing interest by the time he got to the bottom. That didn't stop him from glancing about as he walked; making sure that no one was staring at him and recognising him (even though there were only two people who really could). Using the new long hair feature to his advantage, he tried to hide his face for the most part, just as a precaution. Well, that and to hide the look of embarrassment that tinted his face.

_I go to a ball...in a drag...nearly fucking kill myself falling down the stairs...and then get stared at the whole fucking way down the goddamn longest most obnoxious staircase ever fucking created...IN MOTHERFUCKING HIGH HEELS..._ Kenny thought reaching one of the buffet tables. He scanned the area from behind a golden screen of hair, double checking that his fatass radar was working.

No Cartman; good. That meant he was safe to loiter there until he got his confidence back. In other words, it was time for a little cocktail to revive that proud swagger of his.

He snatched up the nearest full crystal glass, gulping down some of the liquid. The fruity frizz with a tinge of alcohol made his taste buds tingle, the taste more delightful than anything he'd ever had before. A diet of water and bread could make ANYTHING taste like a gift from heaven.

"Um... Excuse me, miss...?" A voice came from behind.

Kenny paused, his eyes shifting left and right. From what he could tell, he was the only 'miss' around. _Crap._

Slowly, the blond turned around, brushing some hair aside nervously to see who was trying to get his attention. He felt his heartbeat step up, thinking that someone may have either recognised him or been able to call out his little facade. Either way, it spelled trouble.

Kenny laid his eyes on a shorter redheaded boy dressed in green to match his eyes, meeting the other's timid gaze with an uneasy look. His eyes widened a bit, not sure what to say or even how to act. He was no lady, after all. What if that was what this was about? So many risks came with this...

"Erm... I was just wondering..." The redhead bit his lip, looking at his feet a moment before going on.

In that pause, people in proximity to the two all stopped, their ears perking and their interests sparking. They all knew this was the voice of the _prince_; and how it was rare for him to ask a lady to dance.

Kenny felt their eyes bearing into him, hating that he was the centre of attention after _just_ getting away from the limelight. _Why are they staring now...? _He thought, _I'm not THAT interesting... But wait...maybe it's...this guy...? _Important people at a banquet wasn't too surprising, although what important person would draw so much attention so quickly? Kenny would have to think on that a minute...

The redhead let out a sigh, deciding to just spit it out and get it over with instead of trying to find a different way to start up a conversation. He looked up, his emerald eyes shining as he stared into the blond's blue pools. He couldn't put it off, too many people were looking. There was no backing down for Prince Kyle Broflovski; not this time.

"_W-would you like to dance?_"

* * *

**A/N: FANFIC YOU ARE A WHORE. I bet you all experienced issues with the uploading issues going on since like...last week? I was gonna wait it out, but this was driving me mad. I have a bunch of other stuff (new stories; LIKE KENNY'S BIRTHDAY STORY) I need to upload still but there's no way around that; just around the updating. I was gonna wait it out..but I wanted to just get this chapter down with already.**

**On that note, I really should threaten you guys more often! I loved the reviews you all bothered to leave me C: seriously, I like the encouragement. Especially since these past couple weeks have just been really rough and things have been more doubtful and bleh than anything else. I got some issues resolved, although there's still stuff tying me down; one of those things being that my writing sucks. Ugh this chapter got sucky towards the end, but that was because I was like "I JUST WANNA GET IT OVER AND DONE WITH" since I only planned up to a certain point, then there was a blank spot, then there was the shot until the end. And I'm tired. Gah I need sugar .**

**Alright, thanks for reading, kiddies! Leave a review since, again, I don't know when I'll exactly get to writing more of this. Honestly, my mood has made it really hard ;;A;; so pick-me-up reviews are always helpful. That and the site actually WORKING... But I shouldn't bitch in an author's note, that's what Tumblr's for. OKAY R&R I LOVE YOU ALL THANKS :D ~CQO**


	8. So You Think You Can Dance?

**A/N: An author's note before the chapter? That's new. Well, this is a super important one! Well, not really 'important' but it's special.**

**Firstly, I'd like to thank all of you reading for reading this story (I seriously don't know why so many people like it, I mean, this is nearly complete crack. I mean I like cracky things but I didn't think destroying a fairytale and putting Kenny in a dress would be so...popular? I unno, that's not the word I want really AT ALL but it's the best I can think of...), and I wanna thank all you reviewing since that's what helps drive me and let's me know if I'm doing a good job or not :D**

**Now, what's so special about this note that it had to be put first? Well I just wanted to start off with announcing something really really special. _~THIS STORY HAS FANART!~_**

**So, I especially want to give a shout out to the fabulous artist _mamepika_, since she drew it out of the kindness of her heart (and may I add that I personally think it looks AMAZING and I've had it up whenever I was working on this chapter). I really never expected to get fanart like ever so I felt really honoured when I got a message about it. So, before I start rambling anymore than already, I'm just stoked about it and it got me really pumped again which especially helps since a lot of personal issues were bothering me and hindering my ability to write good comedic crack. **

**Any road (Yeah I got in the habit of saying that), just copy and paste "http:/ fave. me / d3ci0fw" in the address box sans the spaces and you should be able to see it. Otherwise I linked it in my profile as well as the artist's profile. I plan on doing that for anyone who makes fanart, though I would never force you guys to make it. If you want to, you can, and then you earn a special place in my heart~**

**Oh my god, this is such a long note...I just wanted to put it at the beginning since it got me so excited, and I wanted to make sure that everyone saw. So this chapter somewhat has a dedication to mamepika, mostly because it helped me get really really stoked about this story again and because she's fantastically sweet C: (I said that I'd embarrass the hell out of you so you better be blushing dammit! And I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations ;D)**

**Okay, I'm done, that was so obnoxiously long...Now for the longest chapter yet :D**

* * *

Kyle wasn't sure what came over him. One minute, he was just scoping the crowd for the blond in orange, and then the next he was walking up and asking for a dance. Somewhere along the lines, he seemed to have just imagining only to find out that he actually _was_ requesting a dance from the tangerine angel. But either way, he spoke the words and there was no way of taking them back—especially with a crowd of nosy aristocrats eyeing them—or getting out of the situation.

He just had to wait for an answer with the butterflies in his stomach fluttering from either anticipation of an answer (and hopefully a yes on top of that) or from his outright stupidity opening him for an opportunity of looking like an idiot in front of everyone. He would've said he needed to think out his plans better; but it was more an involuntary impulse than a plan. _What the fuck am I doing?_ Kyle kept thinking over and over, the single thought saving his mind from the silent tension between him and the blond. Though the silence would have eaten him away in a second; his doubtful train of thought didn't make him appear amazingly calm.

Kenny, meanwhile, gaped at the redhead, feeling a sweat drop on his head. What the hell was he supposed to do? The options raced through his mind as he stared at the boy, trying to quickly formulate the best answer. However, Kenny was having trouble considering every other thought was _"OH SHIT OH SHIT OH __**SHIT**__"_ or something along those lines. The amount of eyes glued to the two didn't help the thought process all too much either.

_W-why does everyone have to stare at me? What the fuck did I do to deserve this?_ He mentally pled, _I just wanted to fucking party but not be the centre of everybody's freaking attention! And who the fuck is this guy? He's cute enough to be a girl or something... But it doesn't give me a clue as to who the fuck this kid is..._

From the crowd, Stan and Clyde poked their heads through the gaps between guests, watching intently. Clyde still had a smirk on his face, waiting for some sort of epic screw up to ensue that would ultimately end with him winning the bet. Stan, on the other hand, crossed his fingers, hoping that things would go well—for his friend's sake, not just the stupid bet—and wishing there was a way to help Kyle out more.

_Wait... Maybe she just doesn't know who Kyle is..._ It didn't seem likely, but Stan knew it was possible. Kyle spent more time away from people than with them; so was it so hard to believe that the girl didn't know who she was speaking to even if the hair should've tipped her off?

"Sppt..." Stan whispered, trying to grab Kyle's attention without getting too much himself.

Kyle glanced over, shooting the duke an almost pleading look, a skittish shimmer to his eyes. He was dying up there and he knew it. It was all just a bad idea for a bad ball with a bad intention. _I knew I should've stayed in bed..._

"Introduce yourself man," Stan mouthed, adding a reassuring smile at the end to comfort the prince. Lord knew he needed it.

Kyle bit his lip, turning back Kenny, feeling even more nervous knowing that he'd need to talk more.

"Forgive me; I've failed to introduce myself..." He said sheepishly before bowing, "I'm Prince Kyle of the Broflovskis...t-the one throwing this ball..." _Even if it's more my mother throwing it FOR me..._ "And I was hoping that...a fair lady like yourself...would..." He lifted his head, a pink tinge coating his cheeks as he gazed upon the blond again, "If you would want to...dance...with me..."

Kyle smiled a bit, trying to keep his grin from looking too goofy or too forced. A natural smile was harder to form than he thought. He damned the blush on his face for not helping him look like a man who knew what he was doing. How on earth was he supposed to woo women when he looked like a bashful idiot? _I must look so fucking STUPID right now..._ Kyle thought.

Of course, the prince had no idea that he was talking to a poor servant boy in drag rather than a young noble lady. But Kenny had more than enough ideas to get himself worried.

_P-PRINCE? OH FUCK! _Kenny mentally panicked, _I CAN'T EVEN HIT THE GUY...HE'S THE FUCKING CROWN...BUT HE'S __**HITTING ON ME**__ FOR CHRIST'S SAKE WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO? THE GUY SEEMS SWEET BUT FOR FUCK'S SAKE I'M NOT A GIRL EVEN IF I'M IN A DRESS. OH GOD IF I KNEW THIS WAS GOING TO HAPPEN I WOULD HAVE JUST ASKED THE LITTLE FAGGY FAERIE IF I COULD HAVE GONE TO THE WHOREHOUSE! GODDAMMIT GODDAMMIT __**GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!**_

Kenny's eyes glanced around, only to see loads of eyes staring back. There was no way out of the situation; it was answer yes or answer no. _Fan-fucking-tastic_.

He looked back at Kyle, a dumbfounded glaze to his eyes still. He had to admit, the boy had some sort of appeal to him. And the way he was blushing... It was actually... _cute_.

_Great...now I'm calling boys cute... _Kenny thought, _I'm losing all masculinity now... But still, I can't hit the prince or anything. I could hurt his pretty face. Oh shit, can I even say no? Well I can, it's pretty fucking easy...but I'll likely get tossed out of her or something... Well, one dance couldn't hurt... Oh what the fuck am I doing?_

"I-I...I'd love to..." Kenny squeaked, feigning a girl's voice fairly easily, "Your...highness..." He wasn't sure just what to say; the closest he ever got to royalty was Cartman. Then again, Cartman tried to make Kenny address him as the boy's lord and saviour.

The blond smiled a bit, lips curving into a slight smile, the discomfort hidden under a rose blush. _And now I feel like a total faggot...Yay me..._

A wide grin spread on the prince's face, emeralds turning into stars as his ears perked to the magical y word. Yes. She said yes! This may have only been a dance as opposed to a marriage proposal; but the latter wasn't all too far away.

He delicately took the blond's free hand, holding it as though it was made from fragile glass that would shatter with the slightest sign of roughness. The warmth of the redhead's hand seeped through the velvet glove, heating up Kenny's palm a few extra degrees, the warmth spreading all over his hand as Kyle gently gripped it.

A wave of gasps ran through the crowd, the more gossipy of the nobles all turning to each other and whispering about what just happened, informing the others as though they weren't standing their watching. Several eyes bulged at the scene, gaping at the pair in a dumbfounded state. This _never_ happened before! It was monumental! It was a miracle! It was just _weird_!

Kenny's eyes flickered around again, confusion crossing his face. All this astonishment over him agreeing to a little waltz? _Jesus, does this guy just not get out or something for everyone to be shittin' their panties over this? _The blond thought as he felt his hand being tugged in Kyle's direction, the Jewish boy leading him from the safety of the buffet table to the open battlefield of the ballroom dance floor.

Kenny's attention returned to the prince, a glimmer of bewilderment still in the blue pools of his irises. It was obvious that no one was catching on to his little ruse—thankfully—but at the same time that meant that this guy was serious about dancing. _Well...there's nothing else I can do to AVOID this...not at this point...And it's just one fucking dance... _He thought. A shaky sheepish smile came to his lips, the jumpiness Kenny felt thanks to the possibility of his little gambit being found out easily being mistaken as they shyness of a girl dancing with the most important boy in the kingdom.

He took a step forward, beginning to follow Kyle, only to remember how he lacked balance in the evil glass stilettos. He wobbled, weight shifting more and more as gravity tried to take over and pull him to the floor. _SHIT_! The blond let go of the glass in his hand, letting it plummet to its hard marble doom while he took a few staggering steps to maintain balance. A shatter pierced the air, the glass soon dismembering into thousands of little crystals.

Kenny cringed at the sound, knowing that another screw up meant that he was in trouble. Only this time, he was getting in trouble in front of an audience of posh snobs instead of just in front of his stepbrother. "Aw shit..." He muttered under his breath, his eyes slowly wandering to the mess of glittering pointed pebbles on the floor.

The crowd stared at the blond, some snickering at the klutziness, others face-palming at it. If 'girls' had to be graceful; this one didn't seem to fall into that category.

All the people watching certainly didn't help Kenny's nerves, all the sniggers just making him feel worse. _Way to go, retard..._ He thought lowly; eyes focusing more on the ground near his feet, letting the hair try to shield his face from everyone else. Normally, he wouldn't entirely care what other people thought, but, the way the night was going, he was starting to get more and more conscious of his mannerisms. He wasn't of the same elite social class as everyone else there; he didn't need to be reminded about that.

Kyle glanced over at the glass mess, thinking little of it. It was just a stupid cocktail glass anyway.

"Someone sweep that up before someone gets hurt," He said nonchalantly, not at all fazed by the accident. The redhead pulled lightly on his dance partner's hand, signalling Kenny to continue walking on.

The blond peeked at the prince from between a few long locks, the blue seeming to grow darker from the discomfort. But...he didn't care? Wouldn't he reprimand him at all for breaking royal property? If he did that at home, Cartman would have his head (then again, that was dealing with _Cartman_).

"Accidents happen," Kyle smiled a bit, gripping the Kenny's hand a bit tighter in an effort to cheer him up, "No big deal. Come on."

Kenny went back to awestruck staring, his mouth gaped slightly. That was it? No punishment? Just a little 'accidents happen' and a smile? Was that _possible_? Could people really be that..._nice?_

Silence befell the crowd again, everyone suddenly finding that the accident wasn't nearly as entertaining when it was excused. They weren't expecting Kyle to blow up—he was far too kindly to do that—but that didn't mean that they expected him to shrug the whole thing off like that.

Kyle began leading Kenny towards the dance floor, the blond's legs moving mechanically, not making a single misstep in his involuntary movement. His brain lost control of his body, in too much of a state of wonder to puppet his limbs, letting them run on auto-pilot while he tried to contemplate how anyone could be so nice to him. No one ever showed him any real form of human kindness before.

The crowd cleared a path for the duo, giving them a clean path to the dance floor. They wouldn't dare get in their way nor would they dare look away. The entire point of the ball was about to be proved, though the couple's success would truly determine whether or not it was in vain. In other words, the dance had to go perfectly. _No pressure_.

All the other dancers evacuated the floor the moment they caught sight of the prince and his tangerine belle entering the scene. As the royalty, the prince and his partner had to have their own dance solely to their own, leaving those once twirling around to the music to melt into the ground and join the others in watching.

The orchestra faded, cutting their song short to pick a new one to _really_ kicking the ball off. It was rather rare that a Broflovski started—or even ended for that matter—with the prince starting off a dance (or even appearing in that case). That meant they needed a _special_ song _just_ for them.

By the time Kenny and Kyle reached the centre, the party had gone still, full attention focused on the duo. Everyone waited excitedly for the dance to start, acting as though their very existence depended on seeing it.

_Absolutely __**no**__ pressure._

Kenny felt the anxiety building inside him, the stares singing him as the pressure constricted around him with the force of a boa. Centre of attention barely covered the situation. He was out in the open for everyone to see.

_**Everyone.**_

That included...

_Aw SHIT..._

* * *

"Holy fucker!" Bebe swore, hoping up and down to see over the shoulders of some of the taller guests blocking her view. The original plan to pursue the prince only led to the girls being forced back by people pushing them away to encircle the dance floor.

The blonde wasn't all too pleased with _why_.

"Bebe..." Wendy cautioned, grabbing hold of her sister's slight shoulders, "Calm down..." She knew that if Bebe got riled up, she'd explode like a volcano gushing out the destructive lava fiery temper.

"But that bitch has my man Dammit!" Bebe snarled, wriggling in the ebon girl's hold, "No lemme go!"

"What are you two hoes bitching about?" Finally through vacuuming all the 'shitty Jew food' off the buffet table, Eric trudged over to check on his sisters (since they'd been left alone for far too long) as well as see what the hell was attracting so much attention, "And what the fuck is going on over _heeyah_?"

The girls whipped around, their moods instantly hitting rock bottom when their eyes met the brown ones they'd grown to hate.

"Some stupid bimbo is dancing with the prince..." Bebe muttered, glaring down at the ground in the direction of the dance floor.

"Don't say that," Wendy murmured, "She doesn't even have a chest."

"She's still a cunt..." She growled.

"Wait, _what_? Jewrat has a _date_?" Cartman asked, half cackling, "Oh god you've gotta be shittin' me! PHAHAHAHA!"

"Well we _aren't_," Wendy hissed, "Go look for yourself. I'm sure you can easily use your fat to bulldoze down everyone in your way."

"AYE!" The fat boy frowned, "Watch it or we're going home!"

Wendy sighed. There was no point in cutting their one night of social freedom short, so she'd have to give in. "Yes your lordship," She scoffed with a roll of her eyes.

"Now, if you two excuse me," Cartman said in a high-and-mighty tone, "I'm going to watch the royal fuck up make a fool of himself with the bitch stupid enough to fall for him. I'll find you both again later." On that note, Eric waddled away, shoving his way through some of the other guests to fight his way to the front. He needed the perfect view to watch this epic failure.

Wendy continued to glower at her brother as he walked away, her sister still glowering at the spot on the ground.

"That fucking whore..." Bebe grumbled.

"Hey," Wendy turned her sister to face her, gently lifting up her head so she could look into her eyes, "Princes are supposed to dance with girls at a lot of these things. Don't think you lost yet. Besides, let's see just how well this dance goes. There may be a few pairs of left feet out there."

Bebe didn't look up at first, frowning as she refused to stare back into her sister's hazel eyes. But, as she thought Wendy's words over, her gaze shifted from the ground to the black-haired girl. She always knew exactly how to comfort her.

"I guess you have a point..." She mumbled, "...I still wish that he wasn't with that cunt..."

"I know you do, but all we can do is watch. So just keep calm and wait for a screw-up to jump in," Wendy smiled in effort to brighten Bebe's mood.

"Pfft, you can be a conniving shallow bitch when you put your mind to it, Wendy," The blonde giggled with a smirk.

"I learned from the best," She winked.

The sisters couldn't help but devilishly giggle while no one paid attention to them. They were _Cartmans_ after all.

"Hey, the orchestra's about to start up," Wendy said, "Come on; let's see just what we're up against."

Bebe nodded, her expression hardening from a scheming girl to a determined soldier in the battle for royal attention.

The girls both squeezed themselves through gaps in the throng, hoping for front row spots to observe the newcomer who was causing so much interest.

* * *

The air on the nearly empty dance floor was growing thicker, all the pressure on the couple swirling around them. All the stares somehow heated up the air, the stillness becoming stuffy with anticipation for perfection and the intimidating possibility of things not going according to plan.

When Kyle finally looked around at the people who were watching, his lovesick mood was pierced by the watchers as though their stares were swords. All the pressure flowed into him, hitting him like someone dropping a chandelier on his head. If he'd have known that everyone would be staring and leave them to their first dance alone—or if Kyle had been in his sensible right mind—he would have never asked.

_Of course everyone's watching...Of fucking course they are..._ He thought, his uneasiness becoming more evident, _And if I screw up everyone is going to basically lose all respect for me since this entire social system is based on vanity and dancing... Goddammit..._

Kenny was no calmer, his eyes darting this way and that, searching the crowds for three familiar faces. If he could see them, they could see him. If they could see him, they could possibly recognise him. If they could recognise him...Well he was screwed at that point.

_That fatass would never let me hear the end of it...That is after he killed me... _Kenny thought, his feet quaking a bit in the glass shoes from the nervousness and lack of balance, _Wendy and Bebe would probably have a good giggle about it too... Well after they were done trying to re-murder me for being so goddamn sexy that the royals want in my pants...erm...skirt... Shit this ball thing sucks more balls than anything!_

"Uh..." Kenny bit his lip, wishing he could tell everyone to fuck off and get their own lives or something, but knowing well that—especially as a 'girl'—he'd have to keep his mouth shut. He didn't even notice when his hand started trembling in Kyle's grip, too lost in his thoughts of what would happen if a rotund lord or a ruby blonde and a violet raven came raging onto the ballroom floor screaming about their stepbrother being out dancing with the highest of on the social food chain instead of trying to remodel the manor with nothing but a bucket of water, a brush, and his bare hands.

Kyle's eyes flickered back to his partner, some of the anxieties lifted seeing the blonde. He was still nervous to a near panicking point; but he at least remembered just why he was putting himself out on a limb. Whoever 'she' was, there was just something about her that made Kyle feel..._good_.

_And I don't even know her damn name yet..._ He thought, recalling how it was really just a one-sided introduction he went through earlier. There wasn't any time for that though, not with all the peoples' eyes glued to them at least. They'd need to dance in the limelight before sneaking off somewhere else to talk in private.

The redhead squeezed the blond's hand tighter, giving the other a bit of reassurance before getting into the typical waltz stance. And, like a typical waltz stance, Kyle had to raise his arm up, raising Kenny's in turn. The position looked a little awkward considering the height difference, but that was the least awkward part of the stance in the boys' terms.

_A closed hold just HAS to mean I put my hand around her waist..._ Kyle thought grudgingly, his free hand hesitantly going for the blond's hip.

Kenny hopped a bit when the hand was placed that low. It may not have been his ass or anything, but it was still a tad too close for his comfort. Normally, anyone—especially another guy—to do that to him would be on the floor with a broken nose in a split second. However, Kenny had to be the proper lady who knew what she was doing and who was perfectly fine with the close hold. He then put his free hand on Kyle's shoulder, setting everything in the ideal position to start off the waltz.

_Well this is fucking awkward..._ Kenny glanced down at the hand on his waist a moment; _Thank god I got to listen in on the girls' dance lessons... Just some stupid ass box steps...In heels..._ He would've asked Pip for better footwear if he knew the hell those things would put him through.

A violin pierced the silence, signalling the rest of the strings to begin the song, which started out at a slow even tempo. The oboes, clarinets, and other woodwinds soon joined in, alerting the duo in a lulling tone to start their dance before they started looking like clueless idiots.

Kenny whipped his head up, his gaze meeting Kyle's. Both of them seemed to have been thinking the same thing; what the hell were they really supposed to do if they screwed up? All that meant was that they'd need to do especially well and hope they had enough knowledge on of dance to get through. A glimmer of doubt dully glowed in the prince's eyes, Kyle hoping that all that excessive and useless dance training would actually prove itself to be more than just a waste of time. Kenny met the glimmer with a glisten of worry, having no experience with ballroom dancing beyond spinning in circles and the bits and pieces he overheard.

Kyle took a step forward as Kenny took a step back to initiate the box step; only for Kyle to step right on Kenny's foot.

"Ow..." Kenny muttered, the added pressure from Kyle's body weight the last thing his foot needed. He wasn't sure whether he should've been thankful that the shoe didn't shatter or not.

"Sorry," Kyle whispered, trying to lead without any further misstep. His efforts were in vain, since he almost immediately after nailing Kenny's _other_ foot.

This was going to be a _long_ night for his feet.

* * *

**A/N: This chapter is cut in half; it was originally like twice as long. I only cut it because I wanted it to be proportional to the rest of the story and it was already beating the longest chapter by a page or two and it was only half done...so I cut it! You all hate me for cutting things, but hey, this should make you people more excited! Not to mention I spared you guys reading an obnoxiously long chapter that was out of place in terms of length compared to the other chapters (I usually LOVE writing as much as I can since long chapters are love! It's just...proportions must be thought out). God, even my author's note is long. Well, at least the one at the beginning.**

**Since I don't wanna bore you all further rambling (since, if I do, you all know you can just skip the A/Ns right? Seriously they have little to do with the actual story), I'll just give a tinsy bit of commentary. That being JEWS GOT NO RHYTHM. By the way, I'm trying as best I can to write a good dance scene, but I'm using/will be using a lot of terms I have to look up and do a bit of research since I don't remember anything from learning ballroom dancing in 5th grade aside from the box step and bits of swing dancing... So if I use terms you don't know, they're likely dance related. And if I fail at using the dance terms, I'm sorry, I'm a writer not a dancer TTATT**

**Just a heads up-in case you guys care about what's in store-you'll get to see more of the dance since it's not _nearly_ done, you'll get to see a bit more Stan & Clyde as well as Wendy & Bebe, and I think you'll all be amused with it. At least I am since it's been one of my highlights of the plot since I laid this all out~ Oh...and if you guys wonder how long this is gonna be...I dunno. I mean, it's gonna be somewhat lengthy, but the chapters are kinda short (when I'm not babbling) though they'll likely get longer. It's not gonna be longer than like...20. At least I don't think so. It all depends but it's not gonna be longer than 25 for sure! **

**Oh my god, I've talked so much, I must've bored you all twice over since I gave you a double wammie of author's notes, I'm sorry. Thanks for reading! Please leave a review (I beseech they politely~)! And do check out mamepika's fanart just because it was so nice of her! I'll try to update when I can, but I need to learn myself the Viennese Waltz. **

**P.S. should stop being an ugly hoface, it's pissing me off since all my emails come in so fucking screwy so I need to check my page to see if anyone reviewed. AND THERE ARE NEW STORIES I WANNA UPLOAD GODDAMMIT. Alright, now I'm done, ehehe... ~CQO**


	9. My Sweet and Tender Beast

"Oh god..." Stan muttered, watching the dance with Clyde at his side, biting his lip a bit more with each stumble, nearly breaking skin.

"Oh fuck he's _terrible_..." Clyde said, torn between snickering and pitying. As much of a wreck as the dance was, it was still as hilarious as two awkward geese twirling in circles around a piece of bread.

The couple dancing (or at least _attempting_ to dance) tried to twirl, only for the height difference and the fact that Kyle couldn't lift his arm high enough to cause Kenny to nearly twist his arm just to get under their arm bridge. Overall, it was a painful sight.

Stan slowly put his hand over his face, unable to look at much more of the catastrophe on the dance floor. As close as he and Kyle were, he wasn't going to subject his eyes to the torture of watching his friend utterly fail.

Clyde, on the other hand, couldn't look away. He _wanted_ to—oh how he wanted to!—but his eyes were locked on the scene. It was so terrible that he lost all ability to look at anything else, only subjecting himself to further torture.

He didn't think Kyle had a way with girls at all but seeing him die on the dance floor was outright depressing.

Out of curiosity, Stan peeked from between his fingers, only to cringe as Kenny nearly fell backwards, teetering on one heel while Kyle's foot pinned the blond's other foot to the ground. Somehow, balance was regained only for the failure to continue and worsen.

"I..." Stan softly said, "I really didn't think he'd be this bad..." He wasn't going to lie about thinking that Kyle was a good dancer; rhythm didn't exist in the Jew's world.

"I thought this would at least be _funny_..." Clyde's eye twitched at another twirl attempt, "But this is just..._pathetic_..."

"I can't watch anymore!" Stan shuddered, tearing his eyes from the dance to the crowd, searching for some form of distraction. Someone people talking, someone eating, someone twiddling their thumbs, _ANYTHING WAS BETTER TO LOOK AT THAN THE MESS ON THE DANCE FLOOR!_

His eyes darted this way and that, searching for the perfect distraction.

And that distraction happened to be the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen wearing a purple dress that insulted her natural beauty. At least, in Stan's opinion it did.

"Duuude..." He smiled, only just understanding what Kyle probably felt when he saw Kenny earlier.

"What is it, man?" Clyde wanted to look over, but still couldn't willingly turn his head, "Chick alert?"

Stan said nothing, gaze locked on the ebon haired girl in the crowd across the way. Even with all the others in brightly coloured outfits around her, she still stuck out to Stan as though she were the only person standing there. Radiant barely sufficed as a description of her, and she practically took away Stan's entire respiratory system instead of just his breath. Whoever she was, she seemed to steal the ball away from Stan, replacing his eye soreness from the so-called dance his best friend was trying to pull off with a funky feeling that made his stomach bubble.

So much so that he felt a few of those hors d'oeuvres creeping up his throat in effort to leave the way they came.

The duke covered his mouth, the ever so lovely taste of stomach acid and bile filling on his tongue. He nearly choked trying to swallow it back down, fighting the rest of the vomit clawing its way up. Somehow, utter beauty sparked a disgusting reaction.

"You okay, Stan?" Clyde asked, concerned about the sickening sounds coming from Stan's direction, "You sound like you're gonna puke. Did you see something more disturbing than the dance?"

Stan gulped hard, forcing all the vomit to painfully return down to his stomach just as the girl in purple turned to run off to another spot of the crowd, led by a lesser important blonde in carmine. His stomach settled a bit as soon as the inky black hair disappeared from sight amongst the sea of spectators.

"Not disturbing..." Stan said, pausing to spit the awful barf taste out of his mouth, "More like I just saw the hottest chick ever."

"Really now?" Clyde raised a brow, wishing he was graced with spying a hottie.

"Dude, I gotta talk to her," Stan said, wiping his hand on his pants, thankful that only spit coated his palm rather than throw up, "You wanna be my wingman?"

"Don't you care about Kyle?" Clyde asked, not saying no, but also not used to Stan suggesting to abandon someone he'd been close to since his toddlerhood.

"H-he'll manage..." Stan said, a pang of guilt hitting him. He knew well that Kyle was NOT managing and wouldn't become the Brian Boitano of the dance floor in mere moments. He at least wouldn't have his friends watching him embarrass himself; wasn't that good?

"Whatever, just get me to stop looking at this epic fuck up!" Clyde lamented, "And preferably steer me in the direction of some tits."

"I think there was another chick with her..." He at least remembered something red leading her away...but that other person wasn't nearly as important, "UH...a blonde I think..."

"MMMMM...I'd like a hot blondie..." Clyde had a weak spot for blondes, granted they had a C cup or larger.

"Come on then," Stan said, grabbing Clyde's wrist with his cleaner hand and dragging him into the crowd, "We'll circle around back and look for them."

Just as the two dove back into the crowd, Stan glanced back at the graceless duo dying on the dance floor.

_Sorry Ky... Just try to smooth things out a little and you won't be a royal laughing stock... And maybe you'll get the girl too even if you break her feet..._ He thought, sighing as he turned away, _Good luck, man, you need it..._

* * *

It was fairly clear that they were stumbling their way through everything. The steps were all off tempo, their beat was completely off, and the fact that there were constant oversteps only made it all the worse. It likely wouldn't have been as bad if there were other dancers on the floor; but that was sadly not the case.

A royal audience stared upon the bumbling couple, seeing just why the prince never asked for girls to dance before. He was _horrible_. Peoples' eyes twitched and their spines shook as "My Sweet and Tender Beast" was made a mockery of through two inept teenagers. Others just snickered, the horribleness only making it more humorous. The loudest sniggers came from Lord Cartman, who stood at the front of the crowd, attaining his perfect view through much shoving and threatening of kicking others in the balls (women included).

"JEWS GOT NO RHYTHM!" He cackled, his obnoxious laughter threatening to drown out the music—not that the beat was being abided by—and only making the couple even more nervous.

Kenny in particular.

Eric was _right there_, a notion that sent a tiny shiver of outright terror through the bumbling blond. Of course, he hadn't been recognised yet, but that was likely because they were too far away.

And they were slowly dancing more and more in his direction.

_Fuck_.

He was in horrendous paediatric pain, he was making a complete fool of himself, and he was slowly spiralling closer and closer to the man who would make his life even more of a living hell than already.

Something had to be done. _Fast_.

Kenny looked at Kyle, trying to think up a solution while also seeing how his dance partner was holding up.

The prince was staring down at his feet, trying to make sure he knew just where he was stepping, only to realise just too late that his sole hit the blond's foot rather than the marble floor. His cheeks were painted a dark humiliated cerise, growing a shade darker with every misstep. He kept muttering various swears under his breath, eye twitching every time he accidently stomped on Kenny's foot. The tried to get into the rhythm more, although ever attempt to speed up ended in going too fast, and ever slow down effort made them go too slow for the tempo. Kyle was hating this as much as Kenny was.

_Poor guy..._ Kenny thought, growing apathetic to his throbbing feet and focusing more on Kyle for a second, _He's got as much on the line as I do bein' the damn prince... _

Kenny looked up, seeing that they were closer to Eric than before, signalling a red alert in his head. _Shit! If I don't do something that lardass is gonna see me! Fuck fuckedy fuck fuck FUCK... _He started thinking out his options, ready to try just about anything to get out of this. _Well it's not like I can really ask princey to dance in another direction since he looks like he'd piss himself if I tried to tell him why we couldn't go over there... I'd be better off doing it myself..._

A light bulb went off in his mind. That was it; do it himself! How? Well, he was a boy, and boys were technically supposed to lead...plus the taller one usually looks better as the leader. He may not have been a dancing star, but he remembered one day when he was passing by the girls practicing dancing how one really popular dance was just spinning in circles. The Viennese Waltz or something was what it was called, but the name didn't matter, it more mattered that it was a sophisticated party dance and it was easy enough for Kenny to bullshit. That was all that was important.

"Alright, I'm taking over now," Kenny said, giving Kyle a hushed five second warning before stealing the lead.

"What?" Kyle looked up, having no idea what Kenny meant, only for Kenny to make an abrupt about face that lead the two of them away.

As the turned, they blond took his hand off the Jewish boy's shoulder, looping it under the arm Kyle had on his waist before reaching back, hoist up Kyle's arm with his. Kenny placed his hand back on Kyle's shoulder, Kyle's hand forced to sit on Kenny's shoulder in turn. Instead of Kenny stepping opposite Kyle, Kyle had to step opposite of Kenny as they spun away from where Cartman stood.

The follower had hijacked the lead.

The song started to pick up in tempo, violins singing loudest out of the instruments. The couple's quick turns were timed perfectly with the music, the duo spinning back to the centre of the floor. Kenny was in control, his feet stepping first and Kyle having to follow along (though he was mostly trying not to have _his_ feet stepped on) to what the other was doing.

"HEY—AH!" Kyle shouted, all the quick spinning making him dizzy rather quickly. He was the man, he was supposed to be the leader; and yet this _girl_ was taking control? He wouldn't have cared if they weren't performing in front of an audience. _They_ cared.

Everyone gasped, watching as the duo's dancing abilities suddenly improved when the blond took control. But what in hell was this? What kind of prince was supposed to let his possible future prince lead? A pussy prince, that was who. Some, like Eric, wanted to laugh while others wanted to bang their heads on the palace walls; however, everyone was frozen, watching as the blurs of tangerine and evergreen twirled around the dance floor.

Kenny couldn't help but laugh, the countless looks on everybody's faces just too priceless. An almost wicked gleam came to his eyes looking at all the prudish women covering their mouths at the very notion of a lady taking the initiative and all the priggish men gaping in horror at the thought of a woman having the balls to lead the man. Oh if only they knew the half of it. His hair whipped around in the air, the air rushing through the golden locks giving him a feeling of freedom he'd never truly felt before, and one he couldn't exactly feel with short boy hair. His dress flared out, giving his legs more room with all the air making the material puff an extra bit. The pain of the glass shoes got to the numbing point, so he didn't need to think about how his feet were hurting rather than what steps his feet were taking.

_Just keep spinning! Just keep spinning! Spinning! Spinning! __**Spinning**__! _He happily thought, a genuine smile beaming on his face. Was he actually having _fun? _Well, spinning in circles was entertaining. For Kenny it at least was. But for Kyle... Not so much.

Kyle wasn't sure what to think—like he even could think with his brains scrambling in his mind like food in a blender—or even what to do. He wasn't even sure what was worse, dancing badly or having a girl lead. The situation certainly didn't help his blush or calm his nerves; the boy's heart pounding like a drum while his face nearly matched his hair colour. He was a far better follow than he was a lead though, countering Kenny's steps perfectly each time as they spun around to the music.

"What the hell?" Kyle asked, loud enough for only Kenny to hear his cry out slight protest.

"Lighten up, Princey," Kenny chuckled in good humour, sliding his hands down to Kyle's waist and lifting him up off the ground for a few moments. It wasn't all too hard to lift your partner when he weighs close to a hundred pounds.

Kyle grew even redder and more frantic as he felt his feet dangling in the air. _That_ was something he wasn't exactly used to. "HEY!" He yelped, the green irises retracting, shrivelling up at the sounds of all the nobles having heart attacks—from either hilarity or horror—from Kyle being lifted up.

Kenny kept laughing, placing Kyle back on the ground and reverting back to the position they were in before, resuming the spinning steps to the tune. "Jesus Christ, calm down," Kenny rolled his eyes, "It's not like I'd drop you."

"Th-th-that's not the point!" The redhead head yelled, completely flustered and growing dizzier by the second.

"D'aww, is somebody blushing over being treated as a delicate little flower?" Kenny teased, forgetting just who he was talking to and letting his usual smartass self start showing, "I thought royalty was supposed to be used to it."

Kyle narrowed his eyes at the blond. He was about to open his mouth and protest when Kenny suddenly lifted and arm and spun Kyle around, having the boy twirl once before going back to endless spinning. _I'm never going to be able to think with all these goddamn circles!_ He thought, a nauseous queasy feeling swishing in his stomach.

Kenny's laughter rang in his ears, a sound that was both intimidating and...slightly delightful. There was something about that laugh that wasn't exactly 'feminine', but that seemed to make it all the more special, all the more interesting. That made Kenny all the more interesting. Besides, it's rare to meet girls firm enough to take the lead of a prince at a ball. Firmness was but one of the qualities Kyle would put into picking the person he wanted to spend the rest of his ruling days with; and he was determined to see just how many more ideal qualities the blond had before the night was through.

Of course, that wasn't something he could do on the dance floor while being spun around repeatedly.

Kenny went from having a miserable time to having the time of his life, starting to actually feel the fun of the party kick in. He didn't care if he was in a dress of if everyone was watching him; he was cutting loose! The music may not have been his ideal type, but it was still good enough for dancing too, even if that dancing was just spinning around in continuous circles. The fact that he was actual able to dance in high heels gave him a confidence boost on top of the fact that he was dancing with the beau of the ball! Really, he sort of had it all in his mind, and that's what made all the anxieties from before seemingly disappear with the vibrant melody of the various woodwinds and strings.

He twirled Kyle around, making inside and outside turns wherever he saw fit, disregarding the fact that Kyle was dizzy out of his mind. He lifted the boy up on a few more occasions, spinning around while holding the Jew up like his little green capped trophy. All his moves were natural, fitting the feeling of the music and how he was feeling inside, only making it even more enjoyable. He couldn't stop his laughter, it seeming to come out of his mouth with every little exhale. But he didn't want the laughter to stop—or even the dance to either—just because it was one of the few times in his life he'd ever truly enjoyed himself.

The piece neared an end, the cymbals from the percussionist section smashing together before the violins and violas let out one last high note and then eased into the slower tune at the beginning. The woodwinds picked up with a final elegant clean off to the song just as Kenny quit his spinning and dipped Kyle down, leaving the two panting as the music faded off and the conductor silence his players.

The boys' faces were both red at by then, out of breath from all the vigorous footwork and from the overflow of emotions—one shock and the other pleasure. There was only a few centimetres between their faces, their deep breaths blowing out against the other one's face to cool down the boiling blood beneath their cheeks. Kenny's smile didn't fade. A sparkle glowed in his cerulean eyes that expressed pure glee and that shined so brightly his eyes looked like stars. Kyle just stared up at the blond, lost in the oceanic pools, trying to get his head to stop swirling so he could go back to seeing just one Kenny instead of eight.

There was a long silence, the crowd of onlookers questioning whether it was appropriate or not to applaud.

_CLAP!_ A lone clap echoed through the ballroom, coming from one certain raven haired girl in violet who'd been watching and starting to have second thoughts about her previous promise to split the blond and the redhead apart. She knew well that what had just been done was more than just impressive.

_CLAP!_ A second clap followed, grudgingly coming from a blond in red that stood at the other girl's side. She wasn't sure what she hated more, the fact that she was actually clapping for girl 'stealing her man', or the fact that 'her man' was being stolen. She couldn't decide, but she felt bad either way, knowing that there was no way she couldn't applaud that display. The bitch was proving to be rather fitting competition.

The two girls continued their slow clapping, some people around them beginning to copy them. People around those who started clapping followed suit, this cycle going on until the entire room—even _Eric_—was giving the couple a roaring ovation.

Kenny and Kyle stood upright again, separating and looking all around at the crowd, just remembering that there were so many people watching them. Rose tinges came back to both of their faces as they glanced back at each other, fairly pleased with the outcome of their performance, even though Kyle still felt fairly embarrassed about it.

"Thank you," Kenny shouted to the crowd in an overly gracious tone, giving an overdramatic curtsey to the nobles, "Thank you! Thank you! You're all too kind! Thank you!" He was ready to ham it up for the crowd.

Kyle chuckled nervously, having nothing to say, meekly bowing several times as an expression of thanks.

"S-say, can I talk to you _alone_?" Kyle whispered over to Kenny, wanting to get away from the annoying aristocrats for a good long time. He'd already had to mingle with them far more than he ever usually did.

Kenny looked over at Kyle, a bit hesitant to answer. _Crap...he's probably mad about how I made him look like a pansy... But he is the prince... And I can't tell royalty to fuck off..._ Kenny nodded, hearing the orchestra start up a new piece. Other aristocratic couples came to the floor, getting ready for the next dance.

"Uh, where do we go to do that?" Kenny asked, getting back in the close hold they were in before, "We'll have to dance our way off there."

"Just go that way," Kyle replied, motioning his head in the direction of an open corridor he knew led to the gardens out back, "We'll be alone if we go take a walk in the gardens."

The blond nodded again, then started to lead the much slower spinning waltz over towards where Kyle directed him.

As they turned round and round, getting closer to the exit, Kenny caught a glimpse at Cartman, seeing that he was watching Kyle and him with the eyes of a hawk, wanting to keep the image of his enemy being led by a 'woman' in his mind forever as mental blackmail against the crown.

Their eyes met, the cold brown eyes burning Kenny and sending a cold shiver down his spine. The blond pointedly looked away, spinning so Cartman would only be able to see the back of his head and picking up the pace a bit more.

* * *

Cartman's eyes widened, the lord pausing to rub his eyes.

_Those eyes..._ He thought, trying to remember where he'd seen that look before, _So...familiar..._

What the hell was that? He'd never met that girl before, yet there was something so familiar about her that was almost creepy. And the way she looked away...it was like she was scared of him or something.

_Funny... only one person ever did that when I looked at them..._ He thought, thoughts drifting a bit towards those of his stepbrother.

However, the moment Cartman got a whiff of the main course, all his thoughts about the tangerine blond were forgotten, Eric's mindset switching to something he found far more important. _Sweet the Jews are servin' fried cheecken._

* * *

"Wow...never thought I'd see that one," Wendy muttered, turning to her sister after the applause calmed down and the party started to pick up again, "And I'm surprised you actually clapped for her."

"Shut up," Bebe snarled, "Where is she, we need to teach little miss peach that she isn't the only blonde at this ball who wants in with the prince."

"Uh..." Wendy glanced around, a few second thoughts about their scheme coming to mind as she saw a splotch of orange and a blur of green rush off down a corridor, "Th-that way!" She pointed. Her sister came first.

"Let's go then!" Bebe smirked devilishly, taking a few steps towards the corridor. Wendy joined her, only two steps behind.

"Hey, you two, wait!" A voice called.

The girls stopped, waiting a moment to see if they were the two being called for.

"Yeah, you girls! The foxy lookin' blackette and the drop dead ssexy blonde!" The voice called again, "Turn around!"

Wendy and Bebe both felt their cheeks warm up as they turned around, not expecting such compliments at all from anyone ever. They were even off-setting enough to distract the girls from their mission.

Standing before them were two boys, one larger-built brown-haired boy and another muscular ebon one.

The brown-haired one stood tall, staring at Bebe in particular, having been the one who'd called them. His eyes were more focused on the blonde's chest though. _Damn she's got a fine rack! _Clyde thought.

The raven-haired one, on the other hand, gazed goofily at Wendy, his blue eyes wide and lovesick. There was a tinge of green mixed with his slight blush, a hand over his mouth as he tried to hold back the need to throw up. _I must look so fucking stupid..._ Stan mentally groaned, spitting up a bit in his palm, _Aw Goddammit..._

Bebe giggled a bit looking at Clyde. She had to admit that he was cute—no prince, but still cute none the less. She didn't even notice that his eyes were set more on her breasts than her eyes.

Wendy, meanwhile, stared at Stan, not entirely sure about the boy she was looking at. She recognised him from Kyle's friend from before...but he looked like he was about to spill his dinner all over the marble! _Is he about to throw up because he's looking at me...?_ Wendy thought, tilting her head, _Wait...is that supposed to be an insult or a compliment?_

"Hey," Bebe said, breaking the ice, forgetting about following the prince entirely, "You called?"

"Yeah, we did," Clyde smirked, "You see, we saw both of you while our friend was dancing and, well," He cleared his throat, taking a few steps and leaning in towards Bebe, "Do you believe in love at first sight?"

Bebe stared at Clyde a moment before bursting out into laughter. "Jesus Christ, you call that a pick up line?"

"W-well come on! I was being slightly honest!" Clyde frowned, backing away a little.

"What my sister means," Wendy said, a tad giggly herself over that, "Is that you're going to have to do better than that if you're going to hit on us."

"I got more," Clyde said, "Wanna hear 'em?"

"What? Can't even know your name first?" Bebe asked, playfully cocking a brow.

"Oh, sorry," Clyde rubbed the back of his neck, "I'm Clyde. Clyde Donavon. One of the Goodmen. And that guy over there who looks about ready to upchuck," He pointed over to the ebon boy, "Is Duke Stan Marsh. He seems to have caught Can't-Talk-To-Pretty-Girls-itus from his super best friend, so he hired me to be his wingman for talking to blackie," Clyde winked at Wendy, "Though personally, I'm more interested in you, Miss Goldie Locks."

Bebe giggled a bit more, smile growing as Clyde spoke. Wendy, meanwhile, glanced over at Stan, who was glowering at Clyde. The duke then looked back at Wendy, that lovesick look returning to his eyes before he started gagging in his hand again. _Charming._ Though, somehow, it was sort of...cute... Since when was vomit cute? _Do I have paraphilias now? _Wendy wondered before letting out a small giggle herself.

Stan smiled, those silver bell giggles filling his heart with a bit of joy.

"Nice to make your acquaintance," Bebe said to Clyde, "I'm Bebe and that is my sister Wendy," She dared not mention exactly who they were in fear of scaring the boys off. Everyone knew that Lord Cartman was renowned for his cruelty, "Now, I assume you boys want us to chat with you for a while?"

"Well, that's preferred, I really don't wanna look like a creep and stalk you throughout the ballroom," Clyde joked. He and Bebe both laughed.

While the other two talked, Wendy walked over to Stan, blushing a bit as she stepped up to the boy.

Stan slowly took his hand off his mouth, still fearing throwing up, but needing it off his mouth to speak properly. "H-hey..." He said.

"Hi," Wendy smiled.

Remembering the noble procedure for greeting a lady, Stan scrambled to his knees, grasping Wendy's hand (with the one he once used to stop the throw up) and kissing it lightly, making her skin tingle from beneath the gloves. Stan looked up at her from under his lashes, a sly smirk teasing at his lips. "I'm Stan."

"Yeah, I know," Wendy replied with a roll of her eyes, "I'm Wendy."

"Yeah... I know..." Stan fell into silence after that, letting himself get entranced by the hazel orbs of the raven girl's eyes. Wendy didn't mind, staring back with a warm loving gaze.

"STAN!" Clyde yelled, snapping his friend out of his little affectionate staring contest.

"WHAT?" Stan jumped, letting go of Wendy's hand as he shot up and glared at Clyde.

Wendy lifted her hand up, her entire palm tingling. When she looked at the glove, she saw little opaque greenish globs on the purple. But, for some reason, the vomit didn't entirely disgust her. _Entirely_.

"I was thinking you and I show Wendy a nice private place for us to hang," Clyde said, his arm creeping around Bebe's waist, "You up for it?"

"Dude, this is Kyle's place, remember?" Stan said.

"Aw, he won't mind. 'Sides, we just need to hang in a secluded hallway and we're set! We can stay by the party but not be around so many stuffy hardasses." Clyde said.

Stan thought a moment, debating on whether or not to say yes. If it was just a hall it wouldn't be that bad...but it was still Kyle's place. How was Kyle, anyway? He sort of missed most of what happened thinking about Wendy... Well, he felt like the best super best friend ever. What ever happened to 'bros before hoes'?

With a sigh, Stan came to a decision, "Sure, why not?" His eyes flickered over to Wendy again, "You're joining us right?" He really wanted to get to know Wendy a little more...plus, he wasn't up for being a third wheel.

Wendy smiled wider, "Of course."

"Awesome!" Clyde smirked, turning with Bebe to lead their little party over towards the other end of the hall, knowing the perfect spot on the other side of the room, "Let's be off then!"

Stan took Wendy's hand, walking with her after Clyde and Bebe, mentally wishing his friend good luck again on whatever he was doing at the given moment while both the girls let the prince entirely escape their minds.

The four young aristocrats merged with the rest of the crowd, crossing the ballroom to their ideal hang out spot, abandoning the corridor to the outdoors entirely. No one was going to follow Kenny and Kyle there.

* * *

**A/N: Y'all must be happy with me, I finished another chapter fairly quick! Well, not really since I imagine your version of quick would've been like THE VERY NEXT DAY, but whatever. I did need to read up more on how the Viennese waltz worked (and waste some time on Tumblr since that thing is so distracting). OH GOD IT'S JUST SPINNING ROUND AND ROUND. Perfect thing for Kenny to do, eh? :D **

**Anyway, the chapters do seem to be getting longer (10 pages in Word and 5,045 words of actual story) which I'm happy with! That means longer ones will slowly be more proportional with this work. **

**More story related; YAY STENDY! I finally got to write some! I've seriously been wanting to write Stendy for ages (sans the angsty one I actually posted a while ago) but...I suck at writing Stan. I just don't like him much. THIS IS WHY I ALWAYS WRITE K2, JUST ABOUT EVERYTHING ELSE HAS TOO MUCH STAN. I don't hate him, he's just...hard for me to write. Although I think I'm getting better, or I was at least having some fun with it. Ah, some girls are so pretty you wanna puke!**

**Next chapter should come up soon (fanfic is completely fixed now! Though I sadly can't find my notebook that had my birthday fic in it so I dunno what to do about that :c), hopefully. I've been kinda sick this week so I dunno how my writing will be. Maybe a few reviews from you lovelies will make me feel better, eh? :D Come on, I know you guys are probably itching to find out what Kenny and Kyle are gonna do in the garden. I mean, this next chapter is gonna be all Kenny and Kyle, no one else~ **

**Alright, thanks for reading! Leave a review! Hopefully I'll get some real nice motivation to make this next chapter super fantastic since it's likely the romantic height of the story. You never know what Kenny and Kyle are gonna do when they're alone~ Hurhurhur~ ;D ~CQO**


	10. Wilde Emotions

Night had set in, a diamond studded blanket of darkness falling over the peaceful gardens. A cool breeze blew, giving an icy edge to the air as it rustled through the hedges. Every shrubbery had been perfectly trimmed, every mint green block an exact clone of the one next to it lining the smooth pearly garden path. A display of topiaries was situated near the fountain, some looking like zoo animals, others like former rulers, and even one or two Stars of David mixed in. The water from the fountain spurted from the top, the droplets making trickling sounds as they merged with the body below and created little ripples that kept the pool moving. The water's trickles and the wind's whisper made for the idyllic undertones for the otherwise silent night.

Kenny and Kyle walked out through the enormous archway, having ceased their spinning by the time the party was just a speck of light and sound at the end of a long tunnel. They walked side by side, neither quite ready to say anything. They were close to one another, feeling the other's body heat, hands brushing against one another every so often, though any contact usually led to a bit of awkward blushing from _both_ parties.

_Fucking hormones..._ Kenny muttered every time he felt his cheeks heat up even the slightest fraction of a degree, _It must be a full moon tonight... Weird shit happens on a full moon... Like gay little pixies with the magic of crossdressing..._

Kyle stole a quick glimpse at Kenny every so often, the duo walking down the steps and onto the winding path through the maze of plants and sculptures. He could tell that the blond was preoccupied with some other thoughts, only making him even more curious.

_What is she thinking...?_ Kyle wondered, shifting his eyes back to the courtyard as soon as Kenny was about to look back in his direction, _Aw Christ how do I even start a conversation? Clyde would use a pick up line that'd usually get him slapped... Stan would think of something though he had a natural social charm I don't possess... And a cliché prince in a fairytale would say some random suave line that'd make his ditzy princess swoon..._

He glanced back at the blond once more, smiling a bit as he saw Kenny's eyes wander around the garden in childlike awe that only highlighted the other's natural sweetness, _I'm not dealing with some ditz though... So that would probably fail either way... Like I'm going to do well anyway..._ For once he was actually regretting stating the socially awkward caterpillar and not transforming into the social butterfly he was apparently supposed to be. _Aw shit..._

Kenny wasn't entirely unaware of Kyle's periodic staring, though he didn't fully notice until after absorbing the majesty of the royal gardens. Everything was just so...pretty. Almost romantic even.

_Speaking of romance, what the hell is lover boy waiting for...?_ Kenny thought, sensing Kyle's stare even though he was looking at the topiary of a cow, _seriously, this guy is too shy for his own good... Well, I shouldn't expect him to say much since he was nearly pissing himself asking me to dance... Fuck he's probably pissed about how I sorta owned him at dancing... And kinda laughed at him... And probably made all the hardass snobs think he was a pussy..._

Kenny lowered his head a tad more with each reason being stacked against him. _I am such a fucking retard if I were him I'd give me the silent treatment too..._ His eyes flickered over to the redhead, watching as Kyle bit his lip, obviously struggling to come up with an ice breaker. The blond let out a sigh, _Well... Much as I hate to do it, I should fucking apologise for once in my smartass life... Even if I did save our asses I suppose I wasn't being 'lady-like' or whatever bullshit chicks go by..._

"Kyle..." Kenny said, trying to formulate a good apology. Saying sorry wasn't really his forte.

The prince looked over at Kenny, practically afraid of his own name. Part of him feared what Kenny was going to say, thinking that the blond would start criticising his horrid social skills. Another part of him was relieved, glad that the silence was broken-and by such a heavenly voice no less-to save him from his internal demoralisation. Then there was the part of him that was just surprised that all of this was actually happening, still wondering whether this was real life or fantasy. However, every part of him was interested in what Kenny had to say, whether it be good or bad. Just the fact that the blond was speaking to him was good news in his mind.

"Look..." Kenny sighed again, lowly looking into the redhead's eyes, "I'm sorry I kinda...took the lead dancing and stuff... I dunno... You were kinda really fucking up out there and I thought I could give it a whirl so you wouldn't look like an epic fail... But I guess I kinda made you look like a pansy..." He paused, realising that he likely wasn't doing too well calling the boy a screw up while apologising, "I suck at saying sorry so I guess I'll just shut up now... Yeah..." He slowly looked away, staring at the fountain as they neared it. Oh how he wanted to just dunk his head under the water until his stupidity washed away.

Kyle blinked, listening pensively to the apology. He wasn't expecting one at all—he _was_ an epic failure on the dance floor—and never had he heard on so 'differently' worded. _She honestly thinks I'm mad at her...?_ He had to admit he was a bit annoyed that Kenny hijacked the lead; but it turned out a lot better because of it.

"You don't have to say you're sorry, ya know," Kyle said snappily, "A little warning would've been nice, though."

Kenny looked back at Kyle. He didn't sound _angry_... But he was still _snippy_.

"Hey! I did!" Kenny retorted with a pout.

"Yeah, like five seconds before spinning me like a dreidel," Kyle rolled his eyes.

"Well I still warned ya, ain't my fault your reflexes are slow." He rolled his eyes as well.

"My reflexes aren't slow! I just can't think as quickly when _the entire royal court is watching_."

_Damn, the whole court...? I must've really made him look like a pussy..._ "Hey gimme props for thinking of that anyway! Come on, everyone loved us."

"Yeah, some only loved it because it looked bad for the Crown..." Kyle's tone dropped, a few worries about what his parents—namely his mother—would say to the gender reverse of the lead and follow floating in the back of his mind.

Kenny pursed his lips, thoughts of Cartman's jeers coming to mind. He knew there had to have been others who disliked the royals just as Cartman did, only to a lesser extent. Still, they had to have gotten a kick out of that scene...

"I...I guess I didn't help your royal rep much...did I?" He muttered, a few spectres of guilt creeping up on him. He could tell that Kyle's reputation wasn't exactly perfect to start with; he Kenny's stunt just made it worse.

Kyle hesitated, not wanting to upset Kenny by telling her that it would likely lower his reputation even more, but also having no way around it. Even if he denied it, it was clear that Kenny would call him out for lying.

"Well...I did dance with a girl..." He answered softly, "That's a new one for me..."

_Psh, you that's what you think..._ Kenny thought, smirking to himself. Tricking people was pretty fun, after all. But then, Kyle's words really set in.

"Wait...you...never danced with a girl before...?" _Not that you did tonight either..._

The prince shook his head, "I usually don't even attend the parties...and if I do I make an appearance for five minutes and then go back to my room..." Kyle looked to gaze out at the vast gardens to his side, looking over the hedge lining the path and out at all the vast span of verdant gardens, "Parties are just...stupid."

"Yeah, I never really went to parties myself," Kenny shrugged, although he more never went because he was never _allowed_, "Too many snobby rich folk."

"Snobby rich folk? More like conceited toffee-nosed assholes with airheads the size of their vaults of money and the caring capacity of a pea." The redhead grumbled, narrowing his eyes at some far off statue of a past king.

"...Dude, you sound like you _really_ hate your life..." The blond said bluntly.

"So what if I do, it's not like that changes anything," Kyle shrugged, "I'm still a prince, I still have to act like a figurehead for the moronic aristocracy, and I still have to listen to what my stupid 'legacy' states."

"Legacy...?" Kenny raised a brow. Whatever that was, it already sounded really lame and boring.

"Yeah, the one that says that I need to go to parties and talk to everyone and marry a random girl and then have a son so I can treat him the way my parents treat me. _That_ legacy." Bitterness coated every one of his words.

"Ouch..." Kenny may have had it rough with physical abuse and maltreatment, but any guy under pressure like that definitely wasn't living the stereotypical laid back royal life, "That's gotta suck major balls, man."

"It does..." Kyle agreed, giving Kenny a bit of an odd look. Weren't girls not allowed to swear or something?

Kenny blankly stared at Kyle, not sure how to respond to his look. _Shit what if he's onto me... _He thought, knowing that he wasn't exactly a prim and proper noble lady.

"UH..." _Change the subject, Ken, just think of something else to say... FUCK WHAT DO I SAY?_

"You know..." Kyle said, tilting his head, "You aren't like all the other girls."

Kenny blinked. That was it? No accusation? Or maybe this was a lead up... _Better make myself look convincing to make sure he doesn't fuck me over finding out his 'chick' has a dick..._

"Well... I'm new here!" He said, making everything up on the fly, "You know... From the far off kingdom of...Fort Collins... Yeah, shit goes down differently there..."

"I can tell..." Kyle nodded slowly, "I'm guessing the mannerisms are a lot different?" Swearing wasn't usually allowed in the higher aristocracy (like anyone paid attention to that rule).

"Yeah, they letcha curse and all that shit, even if you're a girl," The blond fibbed, "It's just a fucking word anyway, so what does it matter. Just comes out without us really giving a damn."

"I see..." The redhead still had a sceptic edge to his voice, a perplexed sheen to his eyes as he tried to figure Kenny out, "Sounds a lot nicer than here."

"Well your place is a hell of a lot nicer than mine," Kenny wasn't lying about that.

"Yeah, a beautiful cage." He rolled his eyes.

"Guess ya got a point there..." The blond trailed off, having no further argument. _I think all I've managed to do is make him even __**MORE PISSY **__than before... Good fucking job, me..._

Silence befell the pair again, both of them looking to their sides. Tension hung in the air, a hint of a slight strawberry aroma drifting in the wind. The clink of the blond's heels along with the water's sprinkles and wind's whistle kept the two from reaching complete awkward silence, though they still felt its full effects. Several long moments passed, Kenny and Kyle both thinking as they stared out in opposite directions, the question of what to say ringing in both their minds.

"You know..." Kyle broke the silence, switching his gaze back to the blond, "I don't even know your name..."

"Oh," He glanced back over at the redhead, "It's Ken-" He stopped dead short, nearly saying his _real_ name, "Der..." _Shit shit shit something girly something girly..._ Kenny panicked, "Ell...a..."

"Kenderella?" Kyle raised a brow. _Well that's a unique name..._

"I go by Kenny for short," He gave the prince a cheesy grin, a rose tinge appearing on his cheeks. _Just keep smiling and he'll believe you, Ken... You bullshitted your way this far..._

"Kenny..." Kyle repeated, "I like it," A crooked smile piqued at his lips. Sure the name wasn't that of a typical girl, but this orange blossom wasn't just a typical girl.

"Hell of a lot easier to say than Kenderella," Kenny said, "You'd run outta breath saying that too many times," _And any child with a shitty name like that would kill itself...Least I would..._ "Kenny trims it down a good two syllables."

"Yeah, Kenny is a bit simpler. Though I never heard a name like Kenderella before."

"It's Canadian, eh! My parents' friend came up with it. Or maybe it was their buddy... Definitely not their guy."

"Pfft, that explains it," Kyle's smile widened a little more, "Though it's still...pretty unique."

"If by unique you mean stupid," Kenny muttered, thanking the lord that he didn't actually have a name like that.

"Well _I_ think it's nice," Kyle said as-a-matter-of-factly, "I mean...it's fitting for you."

"Hey...are you callin' me stupid?" Kenny narrowed his eyes at the redhead, forgetting that he was the one who called the name stupid instead of Kyle, who danced with him out of all the girls at the party.

"No, I'm calling you pretty unique," The redhead said, "I already said that you weren't like any of the other girls, so it's fitting that you have a nice name to help you stick out from the crowd. You know...in a good way."

Kenny opened his mouth to come up with a remark to that, only for nothing to come out. He was getting compliments now? _Compliments? _As in, nice things to being said to him about him? _This guy doesn't even know what he's fucking talking about..._ Kenny thought, a blush slowly colouring his cheeks, _God there's something wrong with me if I'm blushing like a fucking pansy... But it is nicer than being called 'shithead' and 'pussy turd' and 'assfuck'... _

Kyle couldn't help but laugh a bit. He honestly didn't think that would work so well to make the blond speechless. Plus the blush was adorable...

"H-h-hey!" Kenny pouted, "Don't you fucking laugh at me! Even if you are a damn prince!" The blush _really_ wasn't helping. Why was it even there?

"Calm down, I just didn't expect you to go speechless over a little compliment," Kyle rolled his eyes playfully.

"Well it's the first time I've ever been complimented before!" Almost as soon as the words left his lips, he regretted saying that.

"What?" Kyle stopped walking, not believing the words he was hearing.

Kenny took another few steps, and then came to a stop as well, glaring at the ground. _I had to open my big fucking mouth again..._ He thought, _I'll never hear the end of it from this guy now..._

"Ya heard me. I've. Never. Been. Complimented. Before."

Kyle didn't reply at first, simply staring at the blond. _How could she not get compliments...?_ He thought. The entire time he'd been with this 'girl', he couldn't stop thinking of compliments—like he'd _say_ any of them—from corny to cheesy to cliché and all in between. As far as Kyle was concerned, Kenny won appearance-wise, from the long flowing golden hair, to the childish expression on 'her' face, to her brilliant jewel-like eyes. The dress may have been nice, but it wasn't as magnificent as the blond's natural beauty. And then there was the personality to take into account; a strong mannerism that was firm and resolute to most tradition yet still sweet and charming in its bluntness. Even if there were a few language issues, that didn't alter the meaning of the words spoken by that sweet voice or make it any less than the symphony of speech.

She had all the potential to be a femme fatale, leading Kyle down some spiralling path of danger any moment; but he didn't care. As far as he was concerned, Kenny was pretty much perfect without being perfect at all by the status quo. Kyle thought 'she' was perfect, and that was all that was important to him.

So why had this perfect pretty never gotten a compliment? And where exactly was Kyle supposed to _start_?

"But..." A sea of possible compliments flooded the redhead's mind, giving him infinite options he just couldn't pick from and was too shy to say from the start. He'd need to say something; he already started talking. But what, what, WHAT? "Um..." _Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? No, no, that's too cliché... Thine hair is as radiant as the sun? No, that wouldn't work... Thou art as sweet as a—wait why am I thinking in Shakespearean? Ugh, I'd be better off speaking French... God why the fuck is it so hard to say something nice without sounding like a dork?_

Kenny sighed, turning around to tell Kyle that he didn't have to say anything nice to him. The boy was struggling enough; he didn't need to think up a flowery sentence on top of that. "Ky—"

"_A charm invests a face, Imperfectly beheld,"_ Kyle blurted out, going with the first thing that came to mind when his eyes met the sapphires once again, "_The lady dare not lift her veil, For fear it be dispelled..."_

Kenny remained silent, listening to the poetry leaking from the prince's mouth. Whatever it was it sounded flattering, whatever it meant. Poetry was a funny chick thing, something Kenny thought was best left for the bitches to learn and then fawn over on their own time.

"_But peers beyond her mesh, And wishes, and denies, Lest interview annul a want, That image satisfies..." _He finished, heaving a sigh, "Emily Dickinson, 'A charm invests a face'."

"You...memorise poetry...?" The blond asked, tilting his head a bit. That was all he could really say, too over taken by the words to give an exact 'thank you' for the recitation.

"I have a lot of my time on my hands while evading parties," The redhead smiled, _"To drift with every passion till my soul, Is a stringed lute on which all winds can play, Is it for this that I have given away, Mine ancient wisdom, and austere control? Methinks my life is a twice-written scroll, scrawled over on some boyish holiday, with idle songs of pipe and virelay, Which do but mar the secret of the whole. Surely there was a time I might have trod, the sunlit heights, and form life's dissonance, struck one clear chord to reach the ears of God. Is that time dead? Lo! with a little rod, I did but touch the honey of romance, And must I lose a soul's inheritance?_ 'Helas!', Oscar Wilde."

"Damn, you're like a human poetry book," Kenny smirked, "Impressive."

"Impressive? More like my _duty_..." Kyle groaned, "'A prince is to be well educated in all subject areas in order to be a fit ruler', I _have_ to know this crap... Though English isn't so bad..." _Not to mention it came in handy..._

"So? It's my 'duty' to clean and I still suck at it!" He was so glad that it wasn't completely out of place for a woman to clean; otherwise he would've been screwed, "Quit being so goddamn modest."

"I'm not being modest! I'm just being..." He paused, trying to think of the best word, "_practical."_

"How the fuck is reciting a fucking poetry book practical?" Kenny shouted, seeing not the slightest practicality at all, "Just take the fucking compliment."

"But I'm the one who's supposed to be complimenting you!" Kyle grumbled.

"I really don't give a fuck about pretty words, Kyle," Kenny said, "I'm more a man of action," A little alarm went off in his head when he realised what slipped out, "As the saying says... Since they don't apply it to women..." _Not that I am one even..._

"It's kinda stupid that I had enough time on my hands to know that crap by heart..." Kyle huffed, "Though I suppose it kinda came in handy..." His sheepish smile returned as he gazed at the blond.

_Aw fuck he's staring at me again..._ Kenny thought, _And hitting on me... No one starts reciting fucking poetry to a chick unless they want somethin'... Though he seems too damn innocent to know what he's doing..._

"Damn, you pick up by the book." Kenny said bluntly.

"Wh-what?" Kyle piped, blush returning to his face. _God, I'm that easy to read...?_

"I know when guys are trying to win a bitch over, Princey," Kenny went on, "Seriously; poetry is one of the sappiest tricks in the book."

"S-so what if I am being a bit...Coquettish?" Kyle asked nervously, "Something wrong with that?"

"Well..." Kenny actually didn't know how to answer that. Technically it was wrong because Kenny wasn't Kenderella the beauty of Fort Collins but rather Kenny the abused slave and stepbrother of Lord Eric Cartman. But there was something about Kyle that...just didn't make it _wrong_. Kenny didn't know just how it made sense, but there was somehow something so right about Kyle that nothing seemed like he was doing something wrong but more the circumstances made it appear so. Though what was truly wrong with a sweet, cute, reserved prince pulling out a cliché or two to get the girl?

_Why am I fucking thinking like this_? He thought, a few legitimately romantic thoughts flashing through his mind, _I...What the fuck am I __**on**__?_ Common sense kept telling him that things were wrong—that the thoughts were wrong—but each one sent such a warm fuzzy feeling through him... That couldn't be wrong, could it?

_Alright, let's see... I'm in a dress posing as a girl gettin' sweet talked by the prince of social fuck ups.._. He thought, _Well, I know that the part about me acting like a chick is fucked up, so let's see about Ky here... He sucks at social skills... he's never picked up a chick before... he's corny as hell when he does try to pick up bitches... he's probably the smartest fucking person I've ever met... he's modest as fuck though... he hates being a prince because he's socially abused... he's actually nice and can give a fuck about another human being... he gets embarrassed easily, he blushes a lot... he looks cute when his cheeks turn all red... He has really really amazing eyes... His ass is pretty fine too... He basically admitted that he has a thing for me..._

Somehow, as he kept thinking, Kenny noticed how loudly—at least he thought it was pretty loud—his heart was beating. The thuds kept breaking up his train of thought, making it harder and harder to concentrate. _God fucking Dammit! I need to think this damn thing out!_ He mentally moaned, trying harder to think through the boisterous beats, _I mean who the hell can think logically with a fucking 'BOOM BOOM' after every fucking word?_

Kyle watched Kenny's inner struggle, that nervous cockiness swiftly melting into anxious guilt. _Of course I say the wrong thing! Of course I do!_ He scolded himself, _Kenny's no less nervous as I am... I mean, what fucking business did I have saying that? She can't even answer! For the love of Moses, Kyle, why do you have to be so fucking stupid in the subject of romance and women? __**IDIOT**__..._

"K-Kenny..." The redhead muttered, "You...you don't have to answer..."

The blond blinked, train of thought completely derailed by the sound of Kyle's voice. He blankly stared at the Semite, too lost in his jumbled thoughts to be able to formulate a coherent reply.

"I mean..." The prince went on, glancing down at his feet, shuffling them a bit, "That was really out of place... It isn't polite to ask that... And..." He let out an aggravated sigh, the reddish shade of his cheeks only deepening, "Oh I fucking give up..."

Kenny frowned. _God he's got low self esteem... Though I guess being a social fail in a social world helped... I still feel bad for the fucker... Well... Bad and somethin' else..._ What that 'else' was he was a bit uneasy about.

"Hey, don't beat yourself up over lil' shit like this..." Kenny said softly, trying his hand at comforting despite the fact that he was bullshitting it (then again, what wasn't he bullshitting?), "I ain't saying ya don't got a right to pick up a gal..."

"Yeah, you're just saying that it shouldn't be you..." Kyle murmured, slurring his words to try to mask what he was saying. It didn't work well.

Kenny wasn't sure how to answer. Part of him wanted to agree with Kyle; but that was a surprisingly small part. Mostly, he didn't _care_ and actually _liked_ it.

_OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?_ The boy's mind was going crazy with these games. He never liked being toyed with, especially by his emotions. But this was the first time that ever happened on such a large scale... _AW CHRIST WHAT'S GOING ON? THIS IS ALL SO FUCKED UP! I MEAN I'M ACTING LIKE I'M ABOUT TO GET A BONER FOR THIS KID OR SOMETHI—wait..._ That posed an interesting question. _AW FUCK I REALLY AM TURNING INTO A FAGGOT!_

* * *

**A/N: Are you all pleased? I know this chapter was shorter and a hell of a lot more awkward than planned... But I tried all damn week! Stupid shit kept getting in the way, and it was getting a bit hard to find the flow in the awkward. BLECH! Next chapter's gonna be better and be even MORE just K2. I seem to enjoy splitting a lot of my planned chapters up, now don't I? I must since otherwise this would be a lot longer. **

**Eeh gads Kenny's having an epiphany! Or something. Next time we get to see how he deals with it. And Kyle can try and work up the courage to do something. HE'S GOTTA BE A MAN TO GET HIS 'WOMAN' DAMMIT. Did you all like my poetry usage? I'm not a poetry buff, but I did like some of Emily's stuff. Some. Okay very little. And then there was Oscar Wilde who I just love to pieces! Plus I had to put him in to make a literary joke. HOPE YOU ALL KNOW ENOUGH ABOUT HIM TO GET WHY IT'S FUNNY KYLE USED ONE OF HIS POEMS! **

**Okay I don't know I'm derpy since this is the first morning I haven't woken up with the same continuous headache I've had all week so none of this makes much sense. Thanks for reading! Leave a review and I'll love you forever! I'll start work on the next instalment when I can! Uh...s'all I have to say. Ehehe :D ~CQO**


	11. Fucked Up and Totally Awesome

No, no, there was no way it could be possible! There was no way in hell it could be true! He couldn't actually..._like him_ or anything! No! Couldn't be! It didn't make any sense! How the hell did it _happen_ or even _work_?

_Good fucking lord..._ Kenny thought, head ready to spin and unscrew itself from his neck thanks to all the mental confusion, _I...I don't even fucking know anymore! J-j-just... THE FUCK? HOW THE HELL CAN I FUCKING __**LIKE**__ HIM LIKE __**THAT**__?_

Was it possible for him to even like anyone? He was still the perverted little servant boy of the Cartman house, the one who mainly looked out for his own ass and not really anyone else's. Sure he cared about his sisters to an extent, but it was more a form of pity and envy than exact affection. Then there were his means of 'relieving' certain urges; but it wasn't like there was any real emotion in it. Concepts like 'love' and 'romance' to him were just petty words that only served the purpose of making women swoon, giving men the opportunity for sex, and making women demand for men to be perfect.

On top of all that, Kenny was a _boy_ who liked another _boy_ who thought that Kenny was a _girl_. _That_ could easily cause a lot of problems.

The blond's skin went pale, all the blood rushing to his face. Embarrassing didn't even begin to cover what was bubbling inside him. There were so many reasons the boy felt sick that thinking about how many there were made him even sicker. He could scarcely think even! Everything was just too screwed up.

_Shit... This is NOT good... NOT GOOD NOT GOOD __**NOT GOOD!**_ Kenny panicked, one thought romantic thought ramming into another of his saner ones, scrambling everything in his head. _This better be a fucking dream 'cause none of this could be happening! There's just no fucking way!_

While Kenny was preoccupied with his questionable sexuality, Kyle sensed something wrong in the silence. There was something off about it—even a socially inept introvert could tell that much—and he had to see what. His gaze drifted up to Kenny's face, instantly seeing the total discomfort that basically encased the blond in an aura of anxiety.

Once again, Kyle knew he ended up saying the wrong thing and made Kenny deathly uncomfortable. Again. _Tonight __**really**__ isn't my night..._

"K-Kenny," He started, slight afraid to speak in fear of ruining everything further, "I didn't mean to... I never meant to... I... I..."

Kenny's eyes shifted to look at the prince, the quivering sheen to his eyes making the inner struggle even more obvious. He had no words, something as complex as basic speech impossible in the scrambles of his mind. Looking into the emeralds only made things harder.

Kyle bit his lip, the look in the pools of blew making his organs twist together. He was _really_ screwing up. Even for a social flunk he didn't expect to make things this painful for the other. It was even worse when he took into account his newfound feelings.

"I...I...OH FUCK IT I GIVE UP!" Kyle tore his eyes away from the watery stare of the blond. He just couldn't look at Kenny anymore, not like that. He just had to get away—get away from everything—until he could think straight again. So, the redhead took off running, darting down the path towards the fountain, hoping to find safety over there after scurrying down one of the many side paths.

Kenny blinked, his jigsaw puzzle mind coming together a little. He wasn't sure of much, but he did know one thing; he had to go after Kyle. He didn't know _why_; he just _did_.

"KY!" Kenny shouted, pulling up his annoyingly long orange skirt and taking off sprinting. The glass heels clicked on the stone pathway. Every quick step was unbalanced, Kenny barely saving himself from tripping every time his foul footing tried to knock him down. He had to keep running; he had to catch up to Kyle. _Whether I like 'im or not..._ Kenny thought, biting his lip at the like part, _Kyle's still too nice of a guy to start throwing himself in a massive depression over stupid shit like me being a dumbass..._

"KYLE! WAIT!" Kenny kept yelling, calls which only made Kyle want to run faster.

He didn't want to avoid Kenny because of Kenny; he wanted to avoid him because of himself. What business did the royal screw-up have flirting (or at least trying to) with the beautiful and mysterious belle from Fort Collins? Prince or no, he was still too awkward and fairly bookish to have a chance. In fact, he _had_ his chance and _failed_ _**miserably**_.

_Gah what the hell was I thinking even going up to talk to her? I mean who the hell am I kidding anymore?_ He thought as he panted, the elegant fountain getting closer and closer, _Kenny can do way better... Fuck she probably hates my guts or something now for running away and wants to kick my ass for making her so damn awkward... Oh god this is why I hate parties..._

"SLOW THE FUCK DOWN ALREADY KYLE!" Kenny yelled, stumbling more with every step, panting heavily.

Kyle shook his head but refused to glance back and call out that he wasn't stopping. All the boy felt he could do to help was to close his eyes and keep running, pushing his muscles so he could just make it to the fountain and sneak down a side path.

"Ugh..." Kyle's speed wasn't helping Kenny _at all,_ "Goddammit, Kyle..."

The boys were nearly at the fountain, Kyle having a good lead of a few metres on Kenny. The blond still pursued, not giving up so easily even though his attire wasn't fit for running.

The redhead opened his eyes, relief rushing through him when he saw the fountain at last. The semicircle on the farther side of the structure had several crisscrossing roads that went in all different directions and allowed Kyle the perfect getaway. He was so close he just _had_ to make it.

With the last bit of his adrenaline reserves, Kyle rocketed around the fountain, eyes flickering between all the paths, wondering which one to take. Would he sulk in the Rose garden? Or maybe by the bridge? Or near the topiary sculptures? Oh so many places so little time.

"KYLE!" Kenny, in one last effort to catch up, rushed over to the fountain and leaped onto the slick stone ledge of the bottom pool. In retrospect, Kenny realised that wasn't the best thing to do in heels.

"WOAH!" He swooned, all that luck he had keeping his balance before running out. He flailed his arms in a last effort to keep standing, though it was all in vain. Gravity kept pulling on him, trying to drag him into the shallow pool which would leave him wet (and not in the good way) and alone. He shut his eyes, not wanting to see the prince get away while he splashed into the water. _Ah fuck..._

Suddenly, he felt a hand grip his wrist, holding on as tightly as it possibly could.

"I gotcha!" Kyle yelled, having made a lap around the fountain to try and stop the blond from falling and possibly getting hurt yet again. Not every prince had to slay a dragon to be a girl's hero, after all.

Kenny opened an eye, smiling a bit when he saw the redhead pulling on his arm to keep him from splashing into the fountain.

"Kyle," He started, still breathless from the dash, "Tha—" However, his thank you was cut short when gravity's force overpowered Kyle's, sending Kenny into the water _with_ Kyle dragged with him.

_SPLASH!_

The duo splashed into the water, disturbing the once fairly still pool of water. Violent waves slapped the stone, some liquid spilling out from over the ledge and getting onto the ground.

Kenny was the first to hit the water, submerging under the crystal water to get thoroughly soaked. The cool water engulfed him, cleaning off sweat from running and dancing as well as sifting through his hair, the gold strands fanning out underwater. Of course water wasn't the best for the clothes, but Kenny hated the dress anyway.

Kyle then wound up on top of Kenny, still tightly holding onto his wrist. He didn't get as drenched as Kenny; but he still got soaked a good deal. The tuxedo became heavier, absorbing all the water and weighing down Kyle's shoulders. He didn't care much for the tuxedo, but he did hate the extra weight. _Especially_ when it helped in toppling him over to land on the blond. He ended up holding Kenny down by the wrist he held, his other hand landing alongside Kenny's waist. His legs were straddled over the skirt, knees pinning the dress to the bottom of the fountain while his feet rested on the ledge of the fountain wall. A valiant attempt to save the blond from getting dunked only wound up during into a wet, compromising position.

"AUGHCH AUGHCH AUGHCH!" Kenny coughed, lifting his head above the water's surface to inhale hair and spit out liquid, "BLECH! How much chlorine do ya—AUGHCH AUCHGH!—put in this dam—AUCHGH!—m water?"

The blond's words went in one of Kyle's hears and out the other, far too focused on their position to care about the chlorine levels. His face flashed red, eyes widening as he looked at his pinned down 'princess'. Kyle lost count of just how many times he ended up blushing, but he damned every single time. How was he supposed to look like the man when his cheeks kept going pink on and off?

"H-how the fuck is I supposed to know?" Kyle asked with a frown, "It isn't my job!"

"AUCHGH! AUCHGH! JESUS FUC-HGH—ING CHRIST!" Kenny was far more focused on the water than anything else, oblivious to the 'situation' Kyle was mentally freaking out over, "THESE CHEMICALS COULD FUCKING KILL A GUY! AUCHGH! AUCHGH! AUCHGH!"

Kyle was fairly thankful that Kenny was oblivious; it gave him a chance to get out of that position before the blond noticed and the awkward level skyrocketed too much. The redhead put his feet in the water, soaking his shoes so he could stand up again. He let go of Kenny's wrist, sloshing backwards a few steps until he could sit down on the ledge of the fountain.

"Here," The prince held out a hand to the hacking blond, "Need help up?"

Kenny squinted through the water drop contact over his eyes, spitting out the last of the chlorine water in his system. The pale hand Kyle held out for him appeared a bit blurry—like everything else around him—but at the same time he could sense comfort from it. He didn't know how, he just did.

"Thanks..." Kenny said, grabbing Kyle's hand tightly, letting Kyle pull him the blond to his feet (though Kenny did more of the work by actually getting up). He glanced down at the soaked satin, the once poofy pain in the ass of a dress turning into a drenched wilted flower of what was once fine clothing.

"Oh damn..." Kyle bit his lip, "Sorry about the dress..."

"Meh," Kenny shrugged, "It was kinda pissing me off anyway. Sorta a bitch to walk around it, I mean, I woulda come in _way different_ clothes than _this_ if I had more of a choice..." _And I wouldn't be acting like a damn crossdressing faggot either..._

"Well I still thought you looked really nice in the dress..." Kyle murmured, more thinking aloud than conducting a conversation, "It brought out your eyes..."

"You flatter me, Ky, ya really do," The blond jokingly said, although he was partially serious about that. The water swished around his legs as Kenny went over to sit next to Kyle on the fountain's ledge.

There was a long silence between the two; a stillness hanging in the air that wasn't quite normal yet wasn't exactly awkward. Kyle stated down at the two pairs of feel in the water, watching the ripples disrupt the water whenever drops dripped from the wet teens. He didn't raise his gaze from the pool, deep in calculating thought. Kenny, meanwhile, squeezed some water out of his hair, hating how super absorbent long hair turned out to be. He could at least read the atmosphere enough to tell that something was off. Whatever that was, it was eating at him, biting the back of his mind as water gushed through his hands and into the pool.

_Let's see... _Kenny thought, _Kyle's quiet... Which is okay... But I still feel all funny..._ He stole a glance at the prince, checking to make sure that he hadn't moved. The redhead remained in place as though he were a statue. _Oh Christ... I seriously can't like him... Can I? I mean really what the fuck is wrong with me? He's cute and nice and funny and smart and all... But I can't seriously like another GUY can I?_

As he kept staring, Kenny felt that pounding feeling in his chest again, heart banging in his chest cavity like a Raging Pussies concert. _...Okay apparently I can... That or I have a heart problem caused by Gingers with sweet asses... ALRIGHT I GUESS IT'S OFFICIAL WHEN YOU START ADMIRING ASSES THAT YOU'RE A HOMO... Ah fuck I think this is the most fucked up dream I've ever had... Or one he'll of a bad acid trip if Cartman broke some shit that shot chemicals into the air and made the place a meth factory... Like it matters when I'm still sittin' here acting like a pansy sitting next to the angstiest prince in the world... Hell he probably doesn't even know what the fuck he should say to me because he has a damn boner for me! ...But I kinda have one for him... OKAY MY LIFE IS FUCKED UP BEYOND BELIEF SOMEONE JUST FUCKING WAKE ME UP!_

"Kenny..." Kyle muttered, disrupting the blond's internal argument, "Can you...Do something for me?"

"Huh? UH..." Kenny thought a moment. He really had no choice in the matter either way though... "Depends, whatcha want?"

"Just...close your eyes a minute, Kay?" Kyle asked, looking up at the blond. The green seemed to sparkle, the water's reflective power playing tricks on the lighting and setting the redhead's emerald irises aglow.

"Well... Okay..." Kenny trailed off, obeying Kyle with a little suspicion.

"No peeking either..." Kyle added, the attempted light humour only succeeding in making his voice shaky.

"Yeah yeah, don't worry..." The blond said. If his eyes were open, he would've rolled them.

"I'm not worrying!" The redhead huffed, "Just keep them closed..."

He waited a good minute, making sure that Kenny wouldn't open his eyes before Kyle told him to. The blond didn't stir, patiently waiting for Kyle to do whatever the hell he was planning on doing. There was a good part of him that was fairly worried, but he kept reassuring himself that Kyle—being the sweet sort o guy he came off as and was deep down—wouldn't do anything to put him in danger. Still, there was a sense of trepidation tingling in his bones, every second ticking painfully slowly. _Calm the fuck down Ken...everything's cool... Hey, just remember, this is a dream! So none of these means a goddamn thing! _He at least hoped he'd eventually buy into his own story.

Kyle stared at Kenny, watching the other's every move as he though his plan over. Was he really going to do it? Would he go through with him? He'd thought it over staring into the pool and it sounded like an alright plan with minimum risk; but he could've miscalculated. His organs knotted up, the boy struggling between backing down like his common sense told him to and doing it already as his emotions instructed.

_I already got her to shut her eyes..._ He thought, swallowing down a gulp of doubt. The spit went down his throat like knives rather than saliva. _I mean...it'll be quick...it's nothing that bad...and I-I may as well try it... Come on, if Stan and Clyde can do it all the time then I should be able to do it at least once... Besides... I'm supposed to be doing this tonight... That's the point... Much as I hate this damn ball it was sorta worth it and I guess I did end up fulfilling the purpose... No, wait, I haven't because I haven't done anything yet! Why the fuck is this so damn hard? Hell maybe I SHOULD back down..._

But then, he seemed to rediscover the blond, suddenly remembering the first moments he saw Kenny on the stairs. He remembered how he was entranced, how everything else just fell away. The emotions were so strong, driving him to do things he wouldn't do for just anyone. And then there was the assertiveness on the dance floor that ended up saving them from too much of a royal fiasco (although the lady leading the prince was still a bit of a scandal). And then, of course, there was their conversation that led up to this point. There was just something about the way 'Kenderella of Fort Collins' acted—the raw personality, the 'I don't give a fuck what anybody else thinks' view, the almost boyish mannerisms that made Kyle a little more comfortable—that drew Kyle to 'her'.

He had to go through with it; that much became clear. And it was now or never. The choice was Kyle's.

_Well... do I even have a choice at this point?_ He sighed, exhaling as much of the anxiety and uncertainty as he could, wanting to break free from their manacles which held him back from going through with his plan.

Kyle scooted closer to Kenny, careful not to brush against the other to keep his movements secret to the blind one. A strong sense of determination flared up inside as he drew closer, next to the blond without him even knowing, like a spectre sneaking near a sleeping beauty. His heart rattled in his chest, urging him to get it over with already. The redhead leaned his face in close to the other's, stopping just before their faces made any contact.

He paused there; taking a moment to gaze at the blond's gently shut eyelids and inhaling the long even breaths. All the romance novels the prince read in his boredom started to make sense, all that girly mumbo jumbo turning from vague ideals brought on by dizzy fleeting passions turning into crystal clear undeniable facts. It felt just a little too cliché to be real, like something had to be off somewhere along the line. Though none of that mattered; right or wrong there was no turning back. He was going through with it.

Then, unable to stand the banging of his cursed heart and the screams of the odd overpowering emotion that had lurked inside him since the party began, Kyle pressed his lips on Kenny's, shutting his eyes at the rough sensation of the other's lips on his. Light shudders prickled his spine, though they seemed to be a good kind of shudder rather than one of utter fear or nervousness. The rapid heartbeat Kyle wanted so badly to silence already only got _more_ rapid, as though his emotions were using it as a way of cheering him on. Even though he knew the goddamned blush returned to his face, he couldn't care less. He was fine with letting his emotions play out for once; he was fine with everything for once. The feeling pulsing through him was better than any royal treatment, better than any musty old book, better than anything Kyle felt in his life. For once, he was completely content by someone who wasn't printed on the pages of an old novella. It was _invigorating_.

Kenny, on the other hand, stiffened up, alarmed at first. A part of him expected Kyle to do something like that, but he was still entirely shocked when it did happen. Never would he have dreamed (or as he was still telling himself 'thought to have dreamed') something like this would be happening. It was screwed up on so many levels. He was a poor slave boy masquerading as a high class lady sitting soaking wet in a garden getting kissed by the prince of the kingdom; what was _right_ about that? But, in Kenny's mind, the answer '_everything'_ came up. Everything was right. It was screwed up but in such a way that it was _perfect_, however that was possible.

As the perfection of the moment sunk in, he subconsciously melted into the kiss, more floating in a dream himself than anything. _Damn this is a dream within a dream..._ Kenny dreamily thought, _A fucked up dream within a fucked up dream..._ Nothing mattered anymore. What was the point? Nothing made sense, but he liked it that way. There wasn't any beating, there weren't any bitches. There wasn't an endless list of chores nor was there the hopeless undertone that no matter what things wouldn't be good enough. For one night—just one twisted night—things were bearable. So he was in a drenched dress; it beat rags! So he was lying his way through the party; what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them or him! So he was kissing another guy and actually had some form of feelings for him; he couldn't have picked a better one.

In that surreal moment in the gardens; everything was just fine.

The moment had to end though, since Kyle knew that if he kept his mouth on Kenny's much longer he'd just sour the situation again. The red-faced redhead drew back, scooting a considerable distance away from Kenny and focusing on the water again, pretending he didn't look like a strawberry. He felt good about it; but it was how Kenny felt that made all the difference.

Kenny opened his eyes, almost dizzy when he returned to reality. So much was going on in his mind it was no wonder he felt like the world was spinning. His senses were coming back, bitching at him for letting his emotions take over and make him do one of the things he never thought he'd do. Of course he didn't care by then, mentally telling his so-called senses to fuck off and let him be for once. He could be sensible when he woke up and returned to his life as the abused servant of the Cartmans; but nothing made a shred of sense as the mystifying lady Kenderella. Rules didn't apply, senses didn't apply, nothing had to apply; for once he was totally free.

"Damn..." He blurted out; lips curving into a smile as the liberating emotions took over again, replacing the darkness of his normal life with the joys of his living fantasy. It felt so wonderful he laughed, finding genuine joy along with real _love and care_ for once in his shitty life. Everything was wonderful and nothing hurt.

Kyle listened to the laughter, biting his lip to keep from joining in. Kenny very well could've been laughing _at_ him, and he wasn't risking looking like anymore of a fool than he already was. He'd given in to love; didn't that mean he was a fool? That's what the books said, but he didn't feel like one even if he appeared to be one. The only thing Kyle could think of to describe how he felt was '_amazing'_, no other adjective fitting his bill. He was just '_amazing'_.

"What's so funny?" Kyle choked out, glancing at the blond from the corner of his eyes.

"It's just..." Kenny kept trying to think, though all his thoughts were too fluttery for any of it to work. His mind was on an acid trip, leaving the blond to just smile stupidly and laugh even more, "_NONE OF THIS MAKES ANY FUCKING SENSE AND IT'S TOTALLY FUCKING __**AWESOME**__!"_

As Kenny's laughter rang in the air, Kyle shot him a questioning look. _Are kisses supposed to make girls so...euphoric...?_ He thought. He shrugged it off though, Kenny's silly smile making him smile too. Even if he didn't make any sense of what Kenny was talking about, he had to admit things were awesome. He—the bumbling introvert and biggest royal failure since his cousin Kyle—managed to survive the party, please everyone, 'grow a pair of testies' as Clyde would say, _and_ get the girl. Out of all his achievements, the last one was the biggest and best in his book, mainly because of who the 'girl' was.

Kyle started laughing to, though he was mostly drowned out by the near hysterics Kenny was in. Was it possible to be that happy? Kenny _made_ it possible. He could've sworn that he lost his sane mind but, as he said, it was totally fucking awesome.

"Hey...Kenny..." Kyle said as the laughter died down from hysterics to just slightly crazed chuckles, "I... I think I have to ask you something..."

"Yeah?" He cocked a brow, Cheshire cat smile still proudly displayed on his face, "What is it?"

The prince let out a sigh, leaning towards Kenny again. Like everything else that happened, he had to finish it once he started.

"I...know this is probably really sudden..." He began staring deeply into the sparkling sapphires that were so close to him, "And... this is likely gonna sound retarded... and sudden... but... this is sorta protocol...and...and..."

"And...?" Kenny leaned in a bit, trying to use the closeness to his advantage and use it as a way to squeeze whatever Kyle was holding back out of him.

"And..." Kyle gulped, forcing all the hesitation into his already choppy stomach, "Will you...Will you..._Will you ma—"_

_DONG! DONG! DONG!_

The clock that adorned one of the castle towers tolled, drowning out whatever Kyle was about to say and breaking Kenny out of his little fantasy. His eyes flickered to the glowing clock face.

Midnight.

His time was up.

* * *

**A/N: OH MY GOD YOU DON'T KNOW HOW HAPPY I AM THAT I FINISHED THAT CHAPTER! Yeah, sorry for the wait, I was really sick and I was afraid that this chapter would be awkwardly done and written with low-grade writing. I managed to cheer up as my health turned and I got really excited. Just a hyper night I guess. **

**OH GOTT I'M SUCH A CLICHÉ TTATT I had fun writing the kiss, can you tell? I swear I get too into this stuff sometimes, and I was afraid I would get OOC with my goddamn romanticism. I don't think I did too much...but still I worry! Though I'm not worried about the fact that Kenny lost his mind. He still thinks this is all just an acid trip! Well it's over now. DUN DUN DUN! By the way, like the Inception jokes? ;D**

**Next chapter, "RUN FOREST RUUUUUUN!" s'all I can tell you. No idea when it'll be done, hopefully soon though I may make an effort at a few other stories I've been wanting to work on first. It depends! Thanks for reading! Leave a review (desolé I bug you all about that too much but it helps!)! I hope you liked this shorter instalment (I need to stop centring so much on the length with this story since all the chapters are tiny) and I also hope I met your expectations. ~CQO**


	12. Not So Fairytale Ending

The bell tolled deep ominous dongs that echoed through the air, stopping everything with those mighty booms. The dreaded hour had come, ending the day and all of the poor boy's fun by the binds of the magic contract.

"_If your arse isn't in the manor when the clock strikes twelve, the mansion will return to that shambolic state it was in before, Mr. Kitty and the figurines will revert to their natural states, and you will go back to the bloody abused slave boy status you were in before."_

The poor boy turned pale, smile disappearing as the memory swam to the top of his thoughts. He'd completely forgotten about that condition until the rings jogged his memory. He had to be in the manor again by twelve o'clock. And instead he was still at the party.

When things were going to go right back to shit!

"FUCK!" Kenny shouted, knowing that he had to leave _immediately_ before things got _really_ bad.

"What is it?" Kyle asked, tilting his head to the side. Concern coated every word, not expecting Kenny to go from Cloud Nine to rock bottom at the stroke of twelve.

"I-I GOTTA GO!" Kenny stammered, getting to his feet and ready to make a dash back the way he'd come, "LIKE NOW."

"Hold on..." The redhead reached out to grab Kenny's wrist. He started, he wanted to finish already! What he was about to say was likely the most important thing he'd ever said in his royal career (which, in Kyle's opinion, showed how shallow the whole thing was)! It took long enough to work up the courage, and he was _not_ up for being abandoned before he asked and got an answer.

Kenny glanced down at the hand on his wrist, biting his lip as he felt Kyle's grip tighten. He didn't exactly want to go, but he _had _to. His dream was over, there was no more time to pretend, and he had to return to the cruel reality he lived in. And if he didn't go soon, lord only knew what would happen.

_Maybe I can stay a couple minutes..._ He thought hopefully. That little hope only lasted a moment.

_SCRITCH! SCRITCH! _The dress was starting to tear. There was no more magic supporting it, meaning that a few loose threads started appearing, slowly but surely beginning to unravel and form rips. The thing would come apart at the seams if he didn't leave.

"I'm sorry, man," He muttered lowly, heaving a sigh. Kenny, with all the force he could, shook his arm, shaking off Kyle's damp grip with one violent fling of the arm. He didn't stop his arm mid-swing, letting his hand press against the prince's chest and push him into the fountain. It was the only way to really give them distance, or at least allow Kenny a head start before making a dash in high heels.

"WAIT-!" Kyle started, only to be silenced by water rushing into his mouth once he made a splash.

Kenny whipped around, setting his sights on the palace. A pang of guilt hit him when he heard the splash, but he couldn't care about that. He could only care about getting the hell out of there and running back to the shambles of Cartman Manor.

_SCRITCH! SCRITCH! SCRITCH!_

And before the holes got too big.

_Here it goes..._ Kenny gulped. Then, he took off full speed down the path, bolting for the exit. The blond held parts of the soaked dress up, trying to keep the material from getting in his way while he made his sprint. Lucky for him the material was starting to un-sew itself and fall off completely.

Thin strips of orange started detaching from the outfit, landing on the ground. At first one fell after every few steps.

Then two.

Then three.

Then five.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" He muttered, glancing behind him to see the little trail he was leaving.

From in the pool of the fountain, Kyle sat up, soaked once again, watching as his orange princess fled. But was he really just going to sit there? Just give up?

No, not this time he wasn't.

"KENNY!" He sprung out from the fountain, running the moment his feet hit the ground. Kyle wasn't losing, not after all this. He wasn't losing the only person who really made him happy.

"SHIT!" Kenny snapped his head to focus back on where he was running. Seeing that Kyle was after him only made things worse and made his escape even more desperate. What if he was caught? What if the guards came after him? All the possibilities came rushing through his mind, only reaffirming the fact that things were back to normal, back to crap.

Kenny had a good lead, reaching the steps while Kyle was pretty far behind still. The only problem was that his plan of leaping on the steps in heels was a poorly thought out one.

_THUMP! CLICK-CLICK-CL-CLICK!_

"OW!" He groaned, landing hard on the top few stone steps. He glared down at his feet, blaming them for his troubles. That was when he noticed that one of his feet was bare, the glittering glass heel from hell slipping off during the fall and sitting at the bottom step, still intact. _Well at least that's one gone..._

_SCRITCH! SCRITCH!_

"_KENNY!"_

The blond scrambled back to his feet, swaying a little when he stood with one heel on and one off. The elevation may have been unequal but there was not time to take off the other heel. The tiny rips in the dress turned into larger tears, ones that were easy to notice and ended up showing the skin underneath.

_H-how the fuck am I supposed to run through a ballroom with this fucking thing falling apart like crazy?_ Kenny thought. With the rate Kyle was advancing and the rate the dress was starting to rip up, he came up with his solution. _I'm just gonna have to run REALLY fast..._

Taking a deep breath, Kenny started off running again, staggering a little trying to run without removing the other heel. It wasn't easy, but he'd managed to get through the entire night without screwing up; he wasn't planning on starting.

Kyle slowed down, seeing the glass shoe sparkling on the bottom step while the blond quickly vanished running down the hall. He stopped, kneeling down to scoop up the shoe. There was no other one like it—a custom made pair from what he could determine—and it was all he really had of his Kenderella that wasn't bits of fabric.

_If I don't find her..._ He thought, _I'll at least have this..._ The redhead looked up, catching sight of Kenny's shadow in the hallway. He may have stopped to take a souvenir but he wasn't giving up his chase yet.

"KENDERELLA!" He shouted, scurrying up the steps and continuing his pursuit, "_KENDERELLA_!"

The name made Kenny shudder as he continued his hobbling dash. There wasn't a Kenderella—there never was a real one anyway—he was back to Kenny, servant and stepbrother of the Cartmans. Hearing the name he called himself in that happy dream just kept reminding him that it was over.

Kenny sped out into the ballroom, darting straight through a crowd.

"COMIN' THROUGH! GET THE FUCK OUTTA MY WAY!" He yelled, pushing and shoving all the nobles in his path aside. There was no need to act like a lady anymore, and he wasn't intending on it. As far as he was concerned, they could all think that 'Kenderella' was just a gutter-mouth rude little bitch.

All the aristocrats scoffed, only letting Kenny mow his way through because he used force. None of the nobles would use force; their only force of offense was using the powers of their gossip and ill opinions. The moment Kenny passed, they simply filled in the path he'd made, standing just where they were before, and then whispered to one another how rude the young lady—the one who the prince picked to dance with no less!—was. In their snobbish mannerisms, they'd managed to erase Kenny's trail and suck him into the crowd.

By the time Kyle got there, Kenny was already deep in the sea of people, the prince only seeing the faces of the cold snobs he so despised rather than that one face of the blond who'd stolen his heart. He carried the shoe with him, thinking of using it as an excuse to stop 'her' and an opportunity to ask what he'd have to ask (whether he thought it was insanely rushed or not).

"_KENDERELLA_!" He called, looking this way and that. Kyle walked around the crowd, scouting the perimeter in hopes of finding Kenny that way, "_**KENDERELLA**_!"

* * *

"You're dad runs a cobbler industry?" Bebe asked, smiling up at Clyde with full attention on him. The two had been talking since they got to the little spot where the four aristocratic teens could have a bit more privacy, Bebe taking notes on Clyde carefully. He was cute, funny (in the way that he couldn't make a joke), and he had control of _shoes_. If that didn't scream 'perfect man' Bebe wasn't sure what did.

"Yeah," Clyde nodded, grinning coolly, "I get 'em free. And Dad's been bitching about me settling down since we make an excess amount of chi—LADIES shoes..." He'd tried to court girls before, but it never worked out. He was too cocky, for one, and then there was the fact that he could just shrug all of them off once they slapped him in the face. But Bebe...she was actually keeping him interested. The chest may have been a hook for him but he was actually _listening_ to what she had to say. That had to have meant something, right?

Bebe giggled, batting her eyes at the brown-haired boy. He may not have been a prince, but he was still good enough for her.

Meanwhile, Stan and Wendy had been standing next to each other in silence most of the time, looking at each other more than talking. Wendy would say a few things, then Stan would try and swallow down the throw up, and then he'd respond, and then Wendy would awkwardly think of something else to say. The conversation may have been sour, but every time their eyes met, they almost felt like they'd said all they had to say and yet they needed to say more. What was there to say? Why use words? They mentally understood each other even though their speech was awkward.

_He's...really sweet..._ Wendy thought, twirling a bit of hair around her finger, _Not too talkative...but still sweet... He's not like any of the other guys... and I like him... I mean... Just maybe...MAYBE... Hmmm..._

_She's so perfect... I mean... there are like no other girls like her..._ Stan thought, biting his lip as he felt the butterflies in his stomach start to make him sick, _Wendy's just so...so... I-I don't even know what the hell I'm supposed to say to her since I just look like an idiot! But she's still hanging around...so that's a good sign for me..._

"Stan..." Wendy said, inching closer to the duke. She wanted to test something out, something she'd been thinking about most of the nonverbal conversation.

"Y-yeah..." The raven-haired boy choked out, the very sound of that voice making his stomach flip. Why couldn't he hold his indigestion around her?

"Can we...uh..." Wendy thought of the best way to ask, "Can we _kiss_?"

Stan went a bit paler, jumping a bit at the suggestion. It wasn't as though he hadn't kissed a girl or heard that offer before; it was just the first time he heard it asked by someone like _her_.

"_Kiss?"_ He stared into the girl's hazel eyes, voice a tad shaky, "_S-s-s-sure..."_

"W-well we don't have to...if you're nervous...and don't want to..." Wendy muttered, shifting her gaze to the floor.

"I-I want to!" He protested, "Really! J-just...p-p-pucker up..." _Oh god I wanna puke..._

The dark-haired girl looked back up at the duke, giving him a sweet look before obeying his command. She closed her eyes gently, puckering her lips out just slightly and tilting her head up towards Stan. All she had to do was wait for Stan to meet her halfway.

Stan went from pale to green, staring down at the ebony beauty even more nervous than before. He wanted to kiss her—oh, he wanted to do a lot with her—but every time he saw her, his insides just twisted up and made him feel so sick...

Just like the moment he first saw Wendy, he felt the bile and stomach acid crawling up his throat, determined to leave the way it came. His stomach wasn't holding anything, all the butterflies inside were kicking out the food and sending it back up to his mouth. The disgusting taste of half digested food burned his tongue, his cheeks bloating as more and more barf filled his mouth. His eyes widened, stuck in a bad situation of having a mouthful of throw-up and nowhere to actually through it up.

"Go on Stan! Kiss her!" Clyde shouted, watching his friend. Bebe was watching too, so excited that she looked like she'd start doing cheers if this kept up. Her sister finally found a man!

Stan grimaced, knowing that he didn't have much time before he let the puke spew out. There was no way he could kiss Wendy when he was about to let his entire lunch spill on the floor! But he was being watched and had her waiting_. This had to have been how Ky felt..._ He thought.

"_**KENDERELLA!"**_

Kyle's shouts made Stan and Clyde jump, knowing that their dear royal friend was in trouble. _Lady_ trouble.

"K—BLEEEEEEEEEEEEECGH!" Stan wanted to scream out for his best friend, but ran into the problem of opening his mouth and letting out a river of throw up.

A river that became a cascading waterfall down onto the girl Stan was about to kiss.

Rather than rough, manly lips pressed against hers, Wendy felt hot, sickening smelling goo rain down on her face and drip onto her dress. A few chunks of the barf ended up slipping between her parted lips, scarring her mouth with a vile flavour of bile, acid, and whatever Stan ate earlier in the day. Her blissful little imagined fantasy of kissing the duke got rained out. With his puke.

Bebe stared, mouth gaped open. Not only was the moment RUINED, but her sister was covered in brownish green smelly slime! It wasn't just bad, it was TERRIBLE! It was a disaster! A romantic mood MURDERER! And it was just plain DISGUSTING! "_EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEW!"_

Clyde, on the other hand, was more prone to laughing than finding it gross. He was a boy, that kind of stuff was hilarious. And the fact that Stan failed for once and failed far worse than he ever did with a bad pick up line or anything only made it just a hint sweeter. "PHAHAHAHA!" Clyde broke into hysterics, cackling as Wendy wiped some of the barf that was near her eyes.

"_GROSS!"_ Wendy shrieked, her skin crawling as the goo dripped down, getting all over her clothes and even forming a pool on the floor.

"Uh..." Stan stared at Wendy, wanting to apologise, but not knowing how he was supposed to word it. _'I'm sorry I threw up on you, you're just so pretty!' No... 'I didn't mean to puke all over you when I was about to kiss you!' Urgh...shit..._

"_**KENDERELLA!"**_

Then he remembered why he'd opened his mouth in the first place. Kyle needed him.

"I...gotta go..." Stan said quickly, wanting to get out of there and do so quickly, "Sorry!" He shoved past her, darting off towards the ballroom again to find his friend.

"Hey! W-wait!" Wendy whipped around, "Stan! Come back!"

"I gotta split too," Clyde said, turning to Bebe for a moment. Hastily, he leaned over and gave her a quick peck on the cheek, knowing that he'd have to leave with Stan rather than hang out with the blonde, "Bros before hoes, babe," With that, he rushed after Stan without a second glance.

"CLYDE!" Bebe yelled, but it was too late. Both the boys were gone.

"_Men_..." The blonde huffed, crossing her arms.

"They just left..." Wendy murmured, gagging from the taste on her tongue.

"I know," Bebe sighed, "I thought maybe...they'd be able to..."

"You thought they'd take us away from Eric, too?" Wendy asked. As conceited as it was, being courted would've meant not only spending the rest of her time with Stan, but also being free of her adopted brother forever.

"Yeah..." She nodded, gazing down at her Donavon brand shoes, "And they were nice boys too... Aside from the puke."

"I know..." Wendy sighed, focusing less on the barf all over her and more on the fact that the one who'd barfed on her was gone. A little puke wouldn't stop her girlish feelings.

As the girls were silent, a rather rotund shadow blocked out the light of the archway leading to their little hall.

"THERE YOU TWO ARE!" Eric boomed, nibbling on a chicken bone as he looked at his upset sisters, "We're going ho—why the fuck are you covered in puke?"

Wendy glared at the lord, daggers in her eyes. "It was the duke, thank you," She snarled, "Now what do you want?"

"We're going home, bitches," Cartman announced, "Of course we're going to have to clean you off before I let you fuck up my carriage, but we're ditching this lame Jew shindig."

Bebe and Wendy looked at one another sadly. Their night of fun and games was officially over.

* * *

Kenny shot out of the crowd, managing to bully his way back to the stairway. The prince's cries kept ringing in his head as he fought his way through, knowing that Kyle was after him but unable to answer any of the calls.

He scuttled up the steps, getting on all fours to make the climb up. The dress was torn even more, an enormous rip in the front forming, gashes decorating the skirt, and one of the sleeves starting to slip off his arm. As if the dress situation wasn't bad enough for him, bits of blond were starting to fall of his head, the extensions that added to his girly appearance shedding onto the ground so he had his short hair again. He was looking even more like Kenny than Kenderella by the moment.

"_KENDERELLA!"_

Kenny glanced back, reaching the top of the steps. From there he could easily spy the dripping redhead wandering around the massive chamber, searching for his princess that didn't exist. Kyle was concentrating on the crowd rather than the steps, the boy unaware that the one he was searching for was nowhere in the mob.

He felt terrible leaving, having Kyle run rings around the crowd in a wild goose chase, but he had no choice. He couldn't tell the truth and he didn't have much time before the truth came out. There was a manor that needed to be reconstructed and a servant that had to return to his post; no time for fairytales in between.

"Sorry, Ky..." Kenny whispered, then turned to run out of the chamber, going homeward bound. As he left, the constant calls for 'Kenderella' still echoed in his head.

* * *

"KENDERELLA! KENDERELLA! _KENDERELLA!"_ Kyle shouted over and over, frantically searching the crowd to find Kenny. Out of all the people, not one of them fit the description of who he was looking for. His blond belle was basically gone.

He'd lost his fairytale dream.

Finding her was hopeless.

_She can't be gone..._ Kyle thought, gripping the glass shoe even tighter as he looked at all the faces, all of them looking exactly the same to him. None them were Kenny, so what was the difference between them? _No..._

"Kyle!" Stan and Clyde ran towards him, answering the cries of the daywalker prince even though they weren't the person he was looking for.

Kyle looked over at his friends, green eyes glazing over with hopelessness. Looking was futile; where else was he to look in the crowd? As much as he tried to deny it to keep that candle of hope inside him burning, he felt it dimming inside him.

"Kyle!" Stan stopped in front of him, frowning when he saw the dead look in Kyle's eyes, "What happened?"

"She's gone." He dully replied.

"Who's gone?" Clyde asked, "That chick you were with?"

"_Her name is Kenderella,"_ Kyle growled, glowering at Clyde.

"Kenderella..." Stan repeated. _That's one screwy name..._ "She's...gone home?"

The redhead nodded, "Home...or somewhere...she said she was from Fort Collins...And she left the party...by now at least..."

"Wait, why'd she leave?" Clyde asked.

"I unno," Kyle shrugged, his voice flat, "I mean, I kissed her...and she was so happy...and then the clock sounded...and she ran off..."

"WAIT YOU KISSED HER?" Clyde was in shock, and out a good hundred crowns.

"Yeah..." Kyle nodded his head again, "And I was gonna ask her to marry me like this fucking party was supposed to entitle me to do...but she left before I could..." He sighed, "I guess I'm just a failure..."

"You are not a failure," Stan frowned, "We'll find her, man. Clyde and I will do it personally, right Clyde?" He glanced over at the brown-haired boy, giving him the 'Agree with me or else' look.

"Wh—OH YEAH..." Clyde said, "We'll totally help you find your girlfriend..."

"Thanks guys..." Kyle muttered, staring back at the shoe in his hands. That one clear high heel was all he had left of Kenny, the one thing that told him that she actually existed and that he didn't just dream the whole thing up. It was the last reminder that there actually was someone out there who had the power to make him truly happy.

"Ky...Why do you have a shoe?" Stan asked.

"It's her shoe," He replied curtly. Kyle then started walking, going right between the two boys and headed in the direction of his room, "I'm going to bed guys. Bye."

"Wait, Ky-!" Stan reached out for the prince as he walked away, but Clyde grabbed him by the arm.

"Let him go," He said, "Dude, all we can do is wait and see how he is tomorrow..."

"I...I guess you're right..." The duke admitted, "So are you gonna give me the crowns tomorrow?"

"I'm gonna have to..." Clyde grumbled, "Are you gonna wipe the puke off your chin?"

"What?" Stan put a hand on his chin, feeling some slime still on it, "Shit..." That instantly reminded him of Wendy.

"Say...you think we'll ever see those two girls again?" Clyde inquired lowly.

"I don't know Clyde..." He replied, "I hope we do...but I don't know..."

"Well," Clyde cleared his throat, "I think it's time we be going home ourselves. I think Kyle's mood of lady loss is rubbing off on me."

"Yeah..." Stan nodded, "I think all three of us kinda lost tonight..."

"May as well cut 'em and get our asses home," Clyde started shuffling in the direction of the stairs, "We may be leaving early while everyone else is still partying, but it's pretty much over right now."

"It's over...at least the good parts..." Stan agreed, following Clyde, "We'll come back and check on Kyle tomorrow."

They both hoped that by then all three of them would get over their heartache.

* * *

"GET IN THE CARRIAGE!" Mr. Kitty shouted, half meowing as he urged Kenny to get into the slowly shrinking coach. The humanised cat headed back to the palace with the coach to pick up the boy after he felt cat ears start forming on his head.

"I AM DAMMIT!" Kenny snarled at the cat man, scrunching into the shrinking coach. As he tried to shut the door, the entire skirt of the dress tore off, leaving him with a tattered petticoat for shorts. _Fuck this is getting bad..._

Once he heard the door slam closed, Mr. Kitty whipped the reins, starting the horses off at full speed. Felines were intelligent—especially when they became humans—so he knew that they'd need to rush back to the manor before everything returned back to normal. If they weren't in the manor before their masters, then there was going to be some speculation.

Kenny groaned from inside the coach, all the walls gradually closing in on him. The dress kept unweaving, the top turning thinner and thinner, growing see-through as the thread practically evaporated. The long velvet gloves unravelled from the top down, going from arms length to up to the wrist to covering the fingers, to covering nothing. Strands of gold were littering the floor of the coach, the long locks of Kenderella turning back into the messy mop top of Kenny. The tiara headband snapped in half, landing on the carriage floor before turning to dust. The only thing that wasn't going away was that goddamn shoe.

"Holy crap..." The boy muttered, looking at the fabric, hair, and dust on the carriage floor, "Last time I fuck with magic..."

_THUNK!_

The coach was getting too small, the ceiling pressing down, trying to shrink to its original size despite someone far bigger sitting inside. Everything started to slow down, the horses turning back into figures who spent all day standing still rather than running through the roads.

"MEROW!" Mr. Kitty mewed, reverting to his normal, natural cat form.

"OW!" Kenny groaned, trying not to get crunched by the shrinking coach.

_CRUNKSH!_

The coach cracked in half, unable to get smaller with Kenny inside. The boy tumbled onto the dirt ground, landing in a pile of hair, wood, and dirt.

"Ow..." The night officially turned to donkey shit.

"Meow!" Mr. Kitty was a cat once again, no more clothes and covered with fur. He nuzzled his face against Kenny's, attempting to get the boy to stand up again.

"Ugh..." The blond looked up, staring at the grey kitty and all the fragments of his shattered dream that lay on the dirt. The wind started to blow, taking away some of the fabric and hair to let it fly in the air, stealing it and tossing it into the woods where no one would find it.

"Meow! Meow!" The cat turned, scurrying down the road, going back to the manor whether Kenny was coming or not.

"Damn..." Kenny muttered, getting to his feet. He looked down, seeing that the elegant dress he once wore turned into tatters that could've been anything in a past life. He couldn't feel any hair heating up the back of his neck, all of it falling out until it was at its normal length again. His hands were dirty, nothing to cover them when he fell onto the road. His entire body had dirt and wood fragments stuck to him, reminding him that servants weren't normally prim and clean. He felt little trickles of blood stream down from where they were before, the cuts reappearing and bleeding. The bruises returned as well, aching like they were just freshly beaten. All was back to normal.

Except that glass shoe on his foot; that hadn't changed.

"Of all the fucking things," Kenny lifted his foot, prying off the glass heel, "Why do I have to have the shoes stay on me? Well...Shoe...still why the fuck couldn't you shatter?"

He thought about that a moment as he finally got the shoe off his foot. "Alright...maybe not shatter since walking home with broken glass on your foot fucking hurts...but still..."

With both feet one equal ground again, Kenny started walking home, staring at the glass shoe in his hands as he began his march back to his old life. His feet were sore from being trapped in the stilettos for hours, though he wasn't thinking about the physical pain. Enough happened to make him feel lousy.

"You're all I got left, I guess..." Kenny told the shoe, the glass twinkling in the starlight, "The only thing that can tell me I ain't fucking batshit... Hell, I guess you're the one tellin' me that I really went to the party..."

He stopped talking, walking in silence as though the shoe was supposed to reply.

Eventually, the walls of the manor came up at Kenny's side as he walked in silence.

"You're my little charm I guess..." He finally went on, turning through the open gates and starting his walk to the open door into the internally destroyed manor, "Ya can remind me that I ain't imagin' tonight...and remind me about how I got to cut loose and have a lil' fun for once...and...and remind me about...Ky..."

The blond crossed through the open door, entering the disaster zone of Cartman Manor. Kenny walked back towards the parlour he was in before leaving the party, the one in which the faerie came, his mind flooded with memories of the ginger Jewish prince who almost seemed too good to be true. There wasn't denial or conflict in his thoughts, only longing for the boy that seemed like he should've been a dream.

"God, you can remind me that I'm a total faggot too..." Kenny rolled his eyes, walking into the ruined parlour, "I mean, seriously, I was getting a fucking boner for that kid or something..." He laughed, although it was more stressed laughter than good-humoured, "But whatever...Maybe this is a dream or something... It's over now, anyway... It's back to gettin' my ass kicked and living like shit for the rest of my life. Great way to spend my life, eh?"

He stared at the shoe a long moment, the inanimate object not responding.

"...I'm talking to a fucking shoe," Kenny deadpanned, "I really am fucked up in the head! Wait...what do I do with you, shoe?"

There was no way he could leave it out in the open, what if the girls or Eric asked! It wasn't like there was a match to it anymore, so it wouldn't be a new pair, not to mention the fact that it was a man's high hell shoe.

The blond glanced around the parlour, his eyes soon zoning on the fireplace. It was perfect! He could just shove it in the back where some soot was and it could remain hidden forever!

"Bingo!" He knelt down to the fireplace, crawling over some of the charred pieces of wood in order to get to the very back. Kenny placed the glass shoe in a pile of cinders, covering it up with a little extra and moving some of the logs to camouflage it further. It'd be the perfect place for the shoe to stay, out of sight and out of the way of others. That, and Kenny could try and put the ball out of his mind.

"Maybe if I forget you exist..." Kenny said, backing out of the ashy fireplace, covered with more soot, "I'll forget this whole fucking night happened..."

He heaved a sigh, lying back on the floor. He was tired, he was sore, and it wasn't like he had anywhere else to sleep. It may as well have been where they left him before the ball.

"I'll wake up and it'll all be crappy again..." Kenny yawned, his blinks getting longer and eyelids getting heavier, "I'll work my ass of cleaning...I'll get the shit beaten outta me daily...and I won't wear anymore fucking dresses or go to anymore fucking parties... All this would've just been a stupid dream... _Every last part_..."

He didn't have enough energy to open his eyes again, his mind fading out of reality as he lay on the ground, covered in cinders once again.

_My stupid fairytale's over..._ He thought dreamily, just barely clinging to consciousness; _Kenderella had her night of partyin'... Now it's back to the shit life for good ol' Kenderella... Guess she ain't gettin' her happy ending...Guess she ain't gettin' her prince charming...Well guess that's 'cause life sucks... _

Just before he slipped into slumber, he thought back to what had happened just under an hour before, the memories seeming like a fantasy. Only this time, he imagined himself as himself, not some poser royal from Fort Collins, sitting with the prince in the garden. They were grinning at each other, both of them happy, both of them in love. Nothing could break their little dream world, they'd be happy forever. And they'd be together to make each other happy.

But then again, it was all just a fairytale pipe dream anyway, right?

* * *

**A/N: D'aww everything's crappy again! That's one thing about Cinderella, things went to shit again right after the ball. And she wasn't like Kenny who just thought the whole thing was a dream anyway. **

**You know you should all count yourselves lucky that I love you so much, I missed part of the Royal Wedding and stayed up extremely late to finish this chapter! I just wanted to knock it down because I'm close to wrapping it up. All fairytales and fanfictions have to end sometime! I estimate a good three or four chapters left, maybe five, so you guys can enjoy it some more (I know this chapter kinda sucked though D: I just haven't been feeling too well).**

**I'd also like to announce that this story has passed the length of a novel :o Sorry, just really proud of that. How's about we get to 50 reviews before this comes to a close then, huh? I was kinda sad that I didn't get too many last update, and that's why it took a little longer to update. I haven't gotten much for reviews this week though, which makes me sad. I WANNA KNOW WHAT YOU PEOPLE THINK! Why else do I leave these author's notes chatting with you? So, please, leave a review. **

**Next chapter we're going to see what's gonna be done about locating Kenderella. It's a good thing Kyle isn't giving up on this pipe dream! I should start working on that soooooooooon but I dunno. I'm actually going to be an asshat now and start self-advertising and say that this may take a while to update if I decide to update my newest fiction Capital Vices. It's going to be really long, involve a lot of satanic fun, have lots of smut (DO I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION? /shot), and it's going to have K2 and a multitude of other pairings. So read that too (I'm sorry, I honestly hate whoring out my stories but it's sort of gonna be my main focus once Kenderella's finished) since that'll have a lot more to come while this one is winding to a close. **

**Oh my god I'm such a hoface TTATT just leave a review, thanks for reading, sorry for dealing with me whining and whoring out stories. I'm still kinda sick and I haven't gotten much sleep all week so I'm kinda cranky about that. But one thing that made it better was ~THE HUMANCENTiPAD!~ Oh Kyle...Kyle Kyle Kyle... Kay, that's all for now folks! :D ~CQO**


	13. Through the Glass Stiletto

"KEENNY!" Cartman barked, sitting in his luxurious chair. Since everything went back to how they were before the spell was cast, Eric had to use a stack of books as a makeshift fourth leg and had to deal with part of the arm being torn off.

Kenny had been fixing up the walls, repainting the entire room to hide all the damage inflicted on the architecture. It had been an entire week since the prince's ball and Kenny was still convincing himself that he'd dreamt the whole thing. He didn't bring it up, no one talked about it, and he wasn't going to make them mention it. Besides, even if it _did_ happen, would he need to be reminded? It was over after all... And knowing that he'd actually met the prince—not to mentioned kissed him and developed genuine romantic feelings for him—and had a moment of true happiness would only make him feel worse about his doomed life as a servant. It was better to call it a dream rather than have the Cinderella syndrome set in.

The blond stopped mid-brushstroke, glaring at the partially painted wall when he heard Eric's voice from the other side of the room. After getting three times the beatings he normally got each day for not having the magic (or not heading to the magic's contract anyway), it was a miracle he could still stand. The only reason he didn't have a broken limb was because Cartman was suffering by having his precious manor in shambles and wanted it fixed as soon as possible. There was always a break for a beating though.

"Yes, you shitship?" Kenny sneered, eyes flickering over to the lord.

Cartman narrowed his eyes, a low growl grating his throat.

"Someone's acting rather unpleasant," The brown-haired boy bitterly said, "If your attitude doesn't improve and you don't work faster you know I _will_ beat you again."

"I don't doubt that," Kenny replied, "Not for a second. But if I keep breakin' for ya to kick my ass over and over I ain't gonna get anything done."

"Well maybe if you worked faster and weren't such a shithead, Keenny, we wouldn't be HAVING this conversation!" Cartman rolled his eyes.

"What is it you want?" Kenny spat, "I've got work to do, ya know."

"I'm aware," Eric snarled, "And I just wanted you to light the fire," He gestured towards the fireplace—the very one Kenny had rested in front of following the dash back from the ball, "Can you do that?"

The blond turned around slowly, plopping the paintbrush back in the bucket. He stared at Cartman a long moment, his icy eyes giving his stepbrother a cold look.

"Course, fatass," Kenny grumbled, "One fire comin' right up." He crossed the room, grabbing a bunch of spare wood to use as kindling as he walked. The boy knelt down in front of the fireplace, tossing in the spare wood and moving the logs around, trying to find a good bit of wood to use as a fire starter.

_Maybe there's somethin' towards the back I can use..._ He thought, pawing through piles of ash for some spare stick that'd help him start the fire. He pushed a few bigger logs aside, digging his hands into a pile of soot.

Rather than mere dust, Kenny felt a smooth glass surface brush against his fingertips, the sensation making him freeze. What was so smooth that was in the fireplace? It had to have been something glass, nothing else was that smooth. But what could it have been? Unless...

_No...I-it was just a dream..._ He shuddered at the memories of him stowing away the glass stiletto, that 'dream' of his haunting him. The blond brushed some soot off the odd glass object, his hands feeling all over the thing to figure out its shape. There was a spot for the toes, an opening for the feet—which had to have been a boy's judging by the structure—to slide in, a slanted sole, and, of course, skinny tall heels. He was holding in his hands _the_ glass stiletto, the proof of his fantasy's existence.

"Holy fuck..." He muttered, eyes bulging as he jumped back from the fireplace. That piece of the dream...it couldn't be real. There was no way! It was all just a dream! He was only dreaming when he took on the name Kenderella, right?

"Keenny," Eric glowered at him, unamused by the stalling, "What's the hold up? Light the damn fire!"

"I...I can't" He lied, eyes locked on the fireplace.

"And why _not_?" The lord growled.

"Because..." Kenny thought a moment, "There's a huge dead rat in there! And it's got a family too. Like, loads of 'em. If I try and light a fire the fuckers'll spring out and start biting the shit outta me and attack everything in this room," He looked at Cartman, "So I suggest ya leave before I try killin' 'em."

The lord didn't move a long moment, contemplating whether or not he should stick around and call out his stepbrother for fibbing or leave in case the story was true. After a good think, he decided it was better to be safe than sorry.

"_Fine_," Eric scoffed, getting up and heading out of the room, "I'll just go count my gold to make sure it's all there..." He walked through the door without a backwards glance, "Get me when the pests are taken care of." His booming footsteps faded as Eric stomped down the hall, growing softer until they'd finally disappeared.

Once Kenny was sure Cartman was gone, he dove back into the fireplace, sorting through the soot until he had his hands around the precious stiletto once again. He backed out of the fireplace, his entire upper body coated with a layer of ashy black and holding a soot soaked stiletto. A few patches of clear were still visible; proving that beneath the grime there was something of beauty and value. The fact that the thing even existed was a miracle.

"Well fuck me..." Kenny whispered, his lips curving into a smile as he stared at the crystal footwear, "It wasn't a dream..."

Part of him was scared to admit that.

* * *

"KYLE! KYLE! KYLE!" Clyde shouted, running up to the prince's chamber with Stan at his side. He'd managed to fair through the week with the embarrassment of losing a hundred crowns to Stan and a few memories of his own blonde belle messing with him here and there, which was better than the others.

"KYLE OPEN THE DOOR!" Stan shouted, seeing the door to Kyle's room shut as they ran down the hall. Stan survived the week calling himself an idiot for his last memory of Wendy being her covered in his puke. He missed his ebony star deeply, but he put most of his heart's laments aside in favour of helping Kyle.

Kyle took it the worst, hands down. The week ticked by for the redhead like an eternity had past, every minute flooded with thoughts of the tangerine mistress who'd ran away from the ball with his heart and a without a glass shoe. The stiletto belonging to his Kenderella sat on the nightstand next to his bed, remaining in his sight at all times. He refused to leave his bed; he just didn't want to go out. There was little point in leaving anymore and, as far as he was concerned, he was bedridden with a terrible fatal illness. That ailment happened to have been called lovesickness, a rather sour case of it at that.

He heard his friends yelling at him to open the door, their voices coming nearer and nearer as Stan and Clyde came down the hall.

"It's open..." Kyle sighed, lying on his bed as though it was his deathbed, hands folded over his stomach and eyes gently shut.

Right after Kyle said that, Clyde and Stan burst through the door, both of them grinning ear to ear.

"Kyle!" Stan beamed, rushing to the boy's bedside, "Ya won't believe it!"

"Won't believe what?" He asked, tone flat and body still, "You sound very excited, Stan."

"You will be too!" Clyde cheered, "Cause Stan and I were doing a little...investigating!"

"Oh?" Kyle raised a brow, but didn't make an effort to look at his friends, "How so?"

"Well, you said that Kenderella was from Fort Collins, right?" Stan asked.

"...y-yeah..." The redhead spoke a bit softer.

"Well, Stan and I worked all week lookin' into records over there," Clyde said, "And guess what we found!"

"_You found her?"_ Kyle's entire face lit up, green eyes flashing open and shining with pure hope. His lips quickly curved into an ecstatic smile, his heart pounding in his chest at the thought of seeing Kenny again.

"NO!" Clyde smiled.

The smile on Kyle's face quickly disappeared, his hope vanishing altogether.

"Then why the fuck are you so happy?" Kyle hissed, narrowing his eyes at the regal duo.

"Because that means she never lived in Fort Collins!" Clyde went on, "So she isn't from there!"

"I'm... Not following..." His eyes flickered to Stan, hoping for something he'd be able to understand if his best friend explained.

"Kenderella isn't from Fort Collins because she never lived there," Stan clarified, "Meaning that she lives HERE."

"We already checked with the guards," Clyde added, "No one left the kingdom last week who the guards didn't know already. None of them had blue eyes, blonde hair, or any of that. So she never left."

"And if she didn't leave," Stan said, "Then she's still here in the kingdom, just hiding out and likely under a different name. Your parents invited commoners to the party too so that can justify how she got in aside from the fact that she looked like an aristocrat."

"So Kenderella isn't that far away, dude!" Clyde smiled a bit wider, "Meaning ya can quit moping around all day!"

"And you can just run a search through the whole kingdom having chicks try on that shoe until you find the one who fits in it!" Stan finished the explanation off, "And the one who fits is Kenderella!" Clyde chimed in to say the closing statement with the ebon duke.

Kyle blankly stared at the two a ling moment, mulling the thought over. Of what they said was true, then there really _was_ still hope for finding Kenny. That meant that he could have that happily ever after the storybooks all promised. And, more importantly, that meant he'd have the perfect princess to spend his happily ever after with.

His eyes flickered back to the glass shoe on the nightstand, the spiteful sparkling in the light. There was only one person who had the feet for that shoe and that was Kenny. It was the perfect test to find his lost love. It was the proof that Kenny was still out there.

_It's crazy enough that it just might work..._ Kyle thought, lips curving just slightly into a smile.

"We'll start the search tomorrow," He said, reaching for the shoe, "I'm finding this shoe's match if it's the last thing I do."

"Ya heard him!" Stan shouted at Clyde, "Let's go spread the word! Everyone in the kingdom's gotta know!"

Clyde nodded, and then darted out of the room, Stan following behind. Kyle was alone again, just sitting and staring at the shoe, the teasing dreamlike thoughts of him and Kenny reuniting pulling him out of the gloom he'd put himself into.

"I'm gonna find you, Kenny..." He said, "I swear I'm gonna find you and make this stupid royal life worth it... I'm gonna turn this regal hell into our little dream..."

He couldn't help but smile at the thought.

* * *

**A/N: Short chapter is short. I dunno, this just needed it's own chapter since it didn't fit in with the next one but was still vital. Meh, either way I wanted to update :P**

**In case you all haven't noticed, I'm ready to wrap things up and I wanna do it fast. I'm not rushing...I just kinda wanna be done with this story so I can move on to other ones. Either way my goal is for Kenderella to be done within the next week or so, depending on studies. **

**One thing that helped get me hyped was the royal wedding. Oh god, that's a real Cinderella story for ya. Not to mention Harry was there being the trolling ginger prince he is~ I love him so much! **

**Alright, that was random, back to business. I feel as though I should address this since I've gotten several reviews regarding it. Yes, I am aware of my typos. I actually crave to fix them so everything is perfect. However, I have a problem with proofreading on the computer and miss some minor things. Plus, I mostly write/post at late hours (like right now it's 5AM lol), so I'm tired. I cannot read documents on the computer well or at least can't find errors on them, so when I see them it's after I post it and when I'm rereading it on my iPod. I try to correct them but when I get to the doc, I just can't find it. I've got bad eyes and a rather busy schedule, so fixing every little thing can be a real chore. I'm sorry I make typos, but I can't fix all of them. Plus, as you all said, they're few in numbers and rather minor. They bug the shit outta me too, but I just do not have time. I'm sorry if the few of them bug you but please don't stress about it; I'm better at most in terms of grammar and spelling.**

**That was kinda bitchy, sorry, I just had to address that. I put that in my profile earlier, but I just felt like restating. Now this A/N is as long as the chapter I bet GRRR! **

**Lighter note, thanks for reading! :D Please leave a review (we're five away from 50 people~) and all, even though this chapter is super short. I'll update soon as I can, though I gotta see how things go. If I finish my notes quickly maybe you'll get something sooner~ But alas, we must wait and see, eh? Like we must wait and see how this little search turns out. Bet you're all excited about that one! Any road, you've read, go review, have a nice 24 period of time, blah blah blah. We're inching closer to then end everyone! ~CQO**


	14. Fairytale Twists Screw the Mind

Days passed, each one feeling longer than the next. The manor slowly returned to its previous state, life going on just as it always did. At least for most people life went on same as always.

Kenny worked in one of the second story sitting rooms, refurbishing the room to hide the destruction that occurred but a little over a week ago. As the blond cleaned, he kept blotting out that night in his mind, covering the sweet memories in hopes it would ease his pain. He didn't want to remember anymore—not when he was sure no one was coming for him—for all that happened would forever serve as a reminder of what had been and what, in a stupid fairytale, would have been. But Kenny had more sense than that; he knew he'd be spending the rest of his life under Eric's thumb, slaving away as a servant with horrible working conditions and plagued with sweet torturing memories.

_It was just a fucking dream..._ He told himself, polishing the fixed up coffee table. The lies he kept feeding himself only ignited a greater retaliation in his mind, the memories he desperately wanted gone surfacing in his mind and playing out whenever he blinked his eyes, making him relive the night even though it was something he wanted to deny.

He _couldn't_ deny it; that show he found was _proof_. There was no other shoe on the planet like _that_ one, and the only way that it could've gotten into the fireplace was because _Kenny_ put it there after her ball. After finding the shoe a few days prior, he found out that it wasn't a dream. A few moments after holding the glass stiletto in his hands again, though, he hid it back in the cinders, trying to go back into the state of denial he was in before.

The only difference was that this time he _knew _he was lying to himself.

_It was a fucking dream... Goddammit how many fucking times do I need to tell my stupidass mind that before I believe it?_ He thought, rubbing the polish over the wood more forcefully as the dreaded memories flashed before him, _I didn't actually go there... I was never really there... I fell asleep and then got beat for it... There wasn't any faggy faerie... Or any ginger princes... Or any fucking glass shoe... Whatever I found was...Wendy's or Bebe's or something...and it just got there...But it had nothing to do with whatever the fuck was in that DREAM... For fuck's sake there never was any fucking Kenderella!_

_"O. M. __**GEEEEEE**__!" _

Bebe's high pitched squeal derailed Kenny's trail of thought, ringing in his brain. He already hadn't slept well for days (mostly due to the fact that his 'dream' kept replaying in his mind whenever he started to drift unconscious), and hearing girlish shrieks would only give him a headache.

The boy stood up, leaving the rag on the freshly polished table and trudging over to the door, every excited squeak coming from the hall cutting away at his last good nerve. He peeked out the door, peering down the hallways to see his stepsisters in front of the window. Wendy stood with her jaw dropped, speechless as she looked out the window. Bebe, meanwhile, jumped up and down, screaming her lungs out with excitement and clapping her hands.

"What the fuck are you bitches shriekin' about?" Kenny grumbled. He didn't care what it was; he just wanted those girls quiet!

Both of them whipped around, Bebe's face overflowing with glee while her sister's was frozen with pure astonishment. Neither of them noticed the annoyance in their stepbrother's voice.

"_THE PRINCE IS HERE_!" Bebe cheered, jumping up and down. True, she still longed for a certain brunet she'd met on that strange ball night, but that didn't make a royal visit any less exciting. It was rare that anyone from the monarchy left the palace to go to anyone's home, especially when it was the home of one of the crown's biggest critics.

"_What?"_ A surge of shock went through the blond, making his eyes pop and ears perk. He couldn't believe it—they had to be lying!—what they claimed was impossible! Kyle even said himself ('in the dream' at least) that he was bound at home most of the time, his parents with him. So why would they journey outside the castle walls now?

_Unless_... Kenny rushed to the window, shoving the girls aside and pressing his face to the glass, looking down at the courtyard.

"Hey!" Both the girls frowned, glowering at the blond.

Kenny didn't hear them, or at least didn't notice them say anything. His eyes were locked on the elegant carriage parked in front of the manor, staring at the pearl white coach that glowed in the sunlight. Gold designs accented the coach, all of the curvy metallic lines ending by making a Jewish star as proof that this was in fact _the_ royal family rather than a bunch of posers. Seven snowy stallions snorted at one another, swishing their tails back and forth as they looked at their shabby surroundings. Obviously the horses had never been all too far out of the palace either.

"Holy shit..." Kenny muttered under his breath. This couldn't be real; it had to be another dream. Perhaps there were fumes coming off the lacquer or he'd just dozed off working. Either way that couldn't have been a royal carriage outside the manor.

_This isn't it...It can't be..._ His eyes searched for a window, wanting to peek into the carriage to see just who was inside. He focused on the small window, making out the blurry people sitting inside. First, he saw an ebon boy, one that looked muscular and vaguely familiar. Next to him, there was a brunet who was only a smidge burlier than the raven-haired and also a bit familiar. Kenny didn't really care about them though, knowing that those two weren't part of the royal family. He glanced at the other side of the coach window, checking for someone sitting across from the two burly nobles. Although he couldn't see well, he did manage to make out a blur of lime green over a bush of red. And that was all he needed.

"IT REALLY IS HIM..." Kenny said, stumbling back from the window. He felt light headed, the corridor spinning around. All the thoughts of that night rushed forward, flooding his mind without any retaliation from the boy who was once in stubborn denial. There was no point in denying it all anymore, not when the biggest proof of all was waiting outside. _But this shit only happens in retarded lil' fairytales...n-not real life! _The last of his common sense cried before being knocked out and shoved into the back of the poor boy's mind. Common sense no longer applied.

"Yeah, I know..." Bebe sighed dreamily, "I wonder what he wants."

"D-didn't you here?" Wendy asked in a hushed, mousy voice, "The prince has been going from house to house in search of the girl he danced with at the ball. I just thought it was a rumour though..." She bit her lip. Wendy wasn't one to trust gossip, but for once this one seemed real. However, she was more concerned about the ebon she spied in the carriage. It very well could've been _her_ prince charming. Well, more _duke_ charming.

"He...he went looking?" Kenny smiled, his heart growing warm and fuzzy. Even though he wasn't the sappy type, this could be his exception. _He went lookin' for me... Damn that guy's committed..._

"Well it was true!" Bebe piped, "And he's here! He's actually here! In the flesh!"

"What's this racket I hear?" Storming out from his office, Eric appeared, glowering at the three gathered by the window, "Why aren't you working Keenny? And what are you whores doing standing around when you should be making me a sammich?"

"More important matters came up," Wendy said, soft yet still filled with spite, "Like a royal visit."

"Royal visit?" Eric furrowed his brow, trotting over, "What do you mean royal..." He looked out the window, catching sight of the regal ride, "WHOA HO HO NOW WHAT DO WE HAVE HERAH?"

"The prince!" Bebe cheered, "The prince is here! Oh god can you believe it?" She was too wrapped up in the excitement of that to do anything other than jumping and squealing.

"Well then," Cartman smirked, thinking this visit a wonderful opportunity to bash the royals to their faces, "Why don't we go downstairs and invite them in."

"Oh of course!" Bebe immediately rushed to go let the guests in.

"Don't do anything funny, bastard..." Wendy cautioned, shooting a dirty look at her brother before following her sister.

Without a word, Kenny darted after the girls, only to be stopped when a chubby hand grabbed his neck and yanked him back.

"HEY!" Kenny yelled, clawing at the air in front of him, "Lemme go!"

"I'm not about to be embarrassed in front of the Jewrats, Keenny," Cartman snarled, dragging the blond towards one of the broom closets, "You stay in herah until they go away."

"Wait just a minute fatass!" Kenny glared at the brunet, just in time to be shoved into the dark closet. He crashed against the buckets, mops and brooms with a loud bang.

Cartman didn't wait for Kenny, instead slamming the door shut. Kenny could hear Cartman prop a chair in front of the knob, locking the blond in without needing a key.

"Have fun, Keenny," Eric said, walking away to greet the royalty visiting.

"HEY! LET ME OUT DUMBFUCK!" Kenny pounded his fists on the door, trying the knob to no avail. He was trapped, once again separated from Kyle by cruel fate. And if he didn't get out soon, he'd miss his one second chance.

* * *

"Come on, Kyle, you have to go inside," Stan frowned. He accompanied Kyle, along with Clyde, to every house in the land, helping the redhead's search. However, Kyle's hopes dimmed with each failed foot, driving the boy to the point of not even getting out of the coach. Convincing him otherwise was proving impossible.

"I'm not going," Kyle said, "You two can go in and check things out while I wait here."

"But we need you to identify the chick," Clyde said. In his hands, he held the stiletto. The shoe had been tried on by many feet, though none of them fit perfectly, too big for most of the girls to walk in.

"You have the shoe," Kyle mumbled, "It's not like I can help."

"What about making sure the chick looks the same?" Clyde asked.

"Look, I've seen enough of the wrong girls today," Kyle spat, "Just go in, put them on the girls' feet, and then tell me whether this was a waste of time or if you actually found her." The search left him thinking that his entire wild Kenderella chase was a waste of time.

"Well fine, Stan come with me," Clyde opened the coach door.

"I'm not going if Kyle's not," Stan said sternly, "I'm not leaving him to mope in here by himself."

Clyde nodded, slipped out of the carriage, and shut the door, headed towards the manor house.

"Thanks for being supportive..." Kyle mumbled, looking out the window at the dull scenery. Cartman Manor was located in a place as lovely as the head of the house.

"Hey, I just want to make sure you're okay!" Stan frowned, "You've been a wreck since the ball and this is the one thing that actually gave you some hope! Look, I know we haven't found her yet but we gotta be patient, dude."

"I think that by the time we end up searching at the house of one of my family's greatest _enemies_, we've crossed into _desperate_," Kyle hissed, sinking in his seat, "Come on, we're at the fucking _Cartman_ house of all places... I think all hope is lost."

"Kyle..." Stan reached over, placing a hand on his shoulder in effort to comfort him.

"Don't touch me," Kyle snarled, shrugging off the hand, "I just want to think a minute..."

"Dude, stop acting so fucking pissy!" Stan growled, "I know you're beat up over Kender...whatever, but you're not the only one who lost the girl that night."

"Difference is you're the only one who can get another one..." Kyle grumbled, glowering out the window, "You and Clyde can get girls easily and tend to move on... I can't... I don't... And I just want _her_..." He grimaced as the thoughts of that sparkling peculiar blond rose to the top of his thoughts, the very thought of Kenny hurting him. The heartache grew like cancer, becoming more and more painful as the days ticked by. Even though it was just a week since he'd diagnosed himself with it, Kyle already knew that the ache was going to kill him if he didn't find his antidote soon.

Stan opened his mouth to argue, but then sighed, leaning back in his seat and looking down at his feet. He understood what Kyle meant. In the eyes of the socially awkward one, the muscular nice cool best friend would appear to have a lot more going for him. And, in the mood Kyle was in, Stan thought it best not to argue, even though he wanted to say Kyle was wrong. For once, the duke who could get any girl he wanted was struck with heartache himself, letting his thoughts drift away from reality and into memories of his own ebony wonder.

Both the boys were oblivious to the blanket of silence that fell over them, too busy coping with heartache and missing their beauties.

* * *

Bebe flung open the door, expecting to see a redhead waiting on the other side with his respective entourage and guards.

Instead, Bebe ended up looking into the eyes of her brown-haired sweetheart from the ball.

"CLYDE?" Bebe awed. The last person she expected to see again (however if she looked closely enough she would've spotted him in the coach earlier).

"Bebe," Clyde smiled, "Baby, how are ya?"

"Why why why I-I-I-I-I..." She stammered, blanking on what to say. Seeing Clyde again made her heart race and all her thoughts go fuzzy, forming a sentence turning into the most difficult task on the planet.

"Bebe," Wendy appeared at the girl's side, and then looked over to see the brunet, "Oh, hello Clyde."

"Wendy? You're here too?" Clyde smiled. Even if this house was another failure in Kyle's search, his and Stan's was a success.

"Well...we live here..." The raven-haired girl replied lowly.

"You...DO?" Clyde tilted his head, "You mean...YOU'RE CARTMANS?"

The girls nodded their heads shamefully.

"WEEEEEELCOOOOOOOME!" Cartman pushed his sisters aside, smiling as he greeted Clyde, "Come right in, won't you?"

"Uh..." Clyde glanced back at the coach, reluctant to enter the house but also hesitant to return to Kyle empty handed, "Well I don't really—"

"Come!" Cartman boomed, pulling Clyde into the house, "You already travelled all this way...what's your name?"

"Sir Clyde Donavon..." He replied, trying to pull himself away.

"Yeeeeeeees, well I'm sure you'd just love to sit down and talk to us about why you're here," Cartman purred. The lord snapped his fingers, signalling the girls to shut the door.

With a sigh, the sisters obeyed, shutting the front door and following their brother.

"But I'm fairly sure that my work here is already..." Clyde protested.

"We have tacos," Eric added.

"TACOS?" All Clyde's worries vanished, "Well...maybe I could stay a while..."

"EXCELLENT!" Eric beamed. He, Clyde, and the girls all ventured to the sitting room, prepared to talk over why the crown was visiting and have Clyde stuff his face with Mexican delicacies.

* * *

"LET! ME! OOOOOOOOOOOOUT!" Kenny cried, still banging on the door. He knew that everyone in the house was long gone, but yelling for someone gave him the false hope that someone would wander by and answer him.

_This is hopeless... _He thought, catching his breath. All the pounding was wearing out his already tired muscles. He was drained, most of his remaining energy being sucked away in the fruitless attempts to find someone to free him. _Guess now Kenderella's a damsel in distress... Well fuck her... Fuck me... There ain't no faerie to bail me outta this one... I'm finally screwed over more than I was the rest of my life... That's reality for ya..._

He slid down to his knees, hands pressed against the wood. Every exhausted huff he heaved blew out and rebounded off the door, puffing hot air into his face. Kenny felt the sweat on his face, as well as the grime. All the years of labour built him up to a degree, but the malnutrition and recent lack of sleep left him virtually powerless. And to what? A chair? _I'm a fucking loser..._

"Merow!"

Kenny groaned, hearing the small scratches of a certain house cat headed his way. "Mr. Kitty..." The blond muttered under his breath, "God not even that cat can help me..."

_CRASH_!

His head snapped up, looking around in the darkness. _A crash...? The fuck..._

Out of curiosity, Kenny reached for the handle, wondering if maybe—just maybe—that damn cat did something useful.

The knob turned, door creaking open. The chair lay toppled over on the ground, the cat that'd done the deed sniffing it suspiciously.

Kenny smiled, free at last and able to save himself yet.

"Guess ya really are pretty useful," Kenny said to the cat. He then sprung out of the closet, hopping over the chair and zooming down to find the royal guest. With the fairytale dream in his grasps, he wasn't letting it slip away again.

* * *

"Enjoying the tacos, Clyde?" Eric inquired, settling down a bit more in his lofty chair.

Clyde, who was sitting on the couch with a tray of steaming tacos on his lap, nodded, some ground beef leaking out of his mouth as he tried to shove a fourth taco into his mouth. The shoe was set next to the boy on the couch, lying on its side. He was more focused on the food than his mission.

"Hmm... Yeeees..." Cartman glanced over at his sisters. Bebe and Wendy were seated on their own couch, both looking at the ground grudgingly. They hated acting like docile dolls but if they dared do anything Cartman would have a fit. It was more painful for Bebe, who wanted to run and tell Clyde to take her away while she still had time and youth on her side. "So what are you doing here again?"

"MMPF?" Clyde gulped down his mouthful of Mexican food, letting his tongue burn as he searched through his memory bank. _Wait... Why am I here again..._ His eyes flickered over to the stiletto, _Oh yeah... "_The prince sent me, ya see. He's actually in the coach outside right now but he isn't coming out until he finds a Miss Kenderella."

"Kenderella?" The three said in union. All of them glanced between one another, sharing confused expressions.

"Yeah," Clyde nodded, taking another bite of a taco before going on, "Ya all had to know her! She was at the ball!"

"Wait... Was she that bitch who led the dance?" Eric asked, smile teasing at his lips.  
"THAT'S HER!" Clyde exclaimed.

"PHAHAHAHAHA!" The lord erupted into roaring laughter, stomping his feet on the ground and banging his hands on the chair. He liked that part of the party a little too much, "WHY THE FUCK IS THAT FAGGY PRINCE LOOKIN' FOR HER? PUNISHING HER FOR MAKING HER LOOK LIKE A SHRIMP?"

"Naw, KY ain't like that," Clyde shook his head, oblivious to the laughter for the most part, "He wants to find the chick so they can hook up. Not exactly what I expected either, believe me..."

"D'aww..." The girls, being girls, had to appreciate the romantic aspect.

"Speaking of which..." Bebe started.

"Quiet," Wendy elbowed her. She shot the blonde a look warning her not to push it when there was more important business at hand; even though she likely would've done the same if Stan was there.

Clyde blinked, and then went on telling of his task, "Anyway, unless you have any other women of the house, I guess my work here is done."

"Well, I can assure you," Cartman said, still chuckling, "There aren't any other women living here."

"Yeah, it's just Bebe and I," Wendy confirmed with a nod.

"Okay," Clyde cleared his throat, about to get up and go, "Well since that's settled, I should likely tell Stan and Kyle the ba—"

_"WAIT JUST A GODDAMN MINUTE!"_ Kenny appeared in the doorway, panting, and one hand behind his back and the other gripping the doorframe.

"KEENNY!" Cartman scowled, "How did you—"

"SHUT UP!" The blond barked, glaring at his stepbrother, daggers in his eyes.

"IS THAT ANY WAY TO SPEAK YOUR—" Cartman raved, an angry fire burning in his pupils.

Clyde froze, watching the whole scene speechless. Wendy and Bebe simply sighed, this being a daily occurrence.

"Master. Yeah, I know the routine," Kenny rolled his eyes, "But I ain't gonna be your SLAVE of a STEPBROTHER anymore, fatass."

"AND WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU THINK THAT?" Eric forgot his guest's existence, more focused on reprimanding his servant.

"Why?" Kenny grinned slyly. He slowly took his hand from behind his back, clutching the ashy glass stiletto that matched the one lying next to Clyde, "_This_ is why."

Bebe and Wendy gasped, staring at the shoe in awe. Even though it was dirty, it was easy to tell that it was the other one's long lost match. Clyde gaped in shock, not sure what to think. Was it the real deal? It had to be, since there was no way anyone could make a carbon copy of shoes like those, but didn't that mean Stan owed him a hundred crowns? Eric, meanwhile, had an expression of fury and horror on his face, flabbergasted.

"K-KEENNY!" He managed to choke out, using his default rage reaction.

"FUCK OFF FATSO!" Kenny stuck his tongue out at the lord, "I'm not your fucking propertah and I've got the right to be free! 'Specially when it means I can see Ky again!"

"No..." Bebe muttered, "No way..." Did she honestly lose the prince to her _stepbrother_? She was perfectly happy with Clyde...but the one she'd called a bimbo and a slut at the party was _KENNY_?

"Yeah way, bitch," Kenny winked, "I'll show ya!" He quickly dove over Clyde, knocking over the tray of taco remnants and crumbles to grab the sister stiletto.

"HEY MAN!" Clyde pushed the blond off his knees, frowning when he saw dirt and grime rubbing off on his pants.

Kenny rolled onto the floor, landing on his back. That still didn't stop him from hastily lifting a leg, putting on the dirty stiletto. His toes got smushed again, but the shoe fit none the less. He did the same with the other stiletto, proving that the clean one was in fact a match.

"AHA!" The blond sprung to his feet, sporting the glass stilettos with pride, "See? They fit!" He strutted to the centre of the room, twirling around like he was on a catwalk, "Ain't the manliest thing I've ever worn, but hell I wore 'em. And a dress too! Got some hair extensions thanks to that faerie... Meh, you fuckers wouldn't understand."

Silence fell over the room, all the aristocrats staring at the servant in disbelief. It didn't make sense! None of it! But the shoe fit! It fit perfectly! So, somehow, Kenny was the one! Kenderella came out of 'her' hiding! And it turned out she wasn't much of a her at all.

"OH MY GOD!" Clyde burst into laughter, going into deeper hysterics than Kyle.

"Hey," Kenny glared at him, "What the fuck are you laughin' at? Never seen a guy in drag before?"

"MAN!" Clyde ignored the blond's questions, "THIS IS RICH! I FUCKING KNEW KYLE WAS GAY! HAHA! I _KNEW_ IT!"

"So you're saying, Clyyde, that Poor Boy here, and Prince Jewslut out there, are gay for each other?" Eric fought to keep a serious face. The angry wasn't gone, just dwarfed for the moment. It was hard to laugh when filled with fury.

Clyde's only response was to fall off the couch in laughter.

"What? Is it so hard to believe?" Kenny frowned, crossing his arms with a pout. That promoted a few snickers from everyone. "Oh fuck you all!"

"Oh god... I... I GOTTA GO GET KY!" Clyde sprung up from the ground. In a blink of an eye, the brunet billeted out of the room, his cackling echoing through the corridor as he sped to the coach.

"THAT'S RIGHT YOU GO GE—_KYLE_?" Kenny went pale. As far as Kyle knew, Kenny was the only girl to ever love him. _Oh fuck how's he gonna react to coming outta the closet to be with a piece a' shit like me...?_ He thought, blinking away the thoughts of Kyle coming in, seeing his 'Kenderella' and then running off in disgust.

"H-HEY! DUDE! WAIT!" Kenny called after Clyde, voice cracking from nervousness. Without a moment to lose, Kenny darted after Clyde, shouting "OW!" after every step.

"Oh this outta be good," Cartman smirked, slithering after the others. He could only imagine the priceless moment when the two people he loved to torment most in the world met and caused each other misery. There would be nothing sweeter than that moment, as long as it played out as Cartman imagined.

"Clyde!" Bebe cried, sprinting after him, "Wait up a second!" She wanted to see how everything worked out for Kenny; but at the same time she wasn't about to let Clyde out of her sight after what happened at the ball.

"Bebe...!" Wendy reached out to grab her sister's wrist, but the blonde was gone before she could, leaving her alone. _Hold on..._ She remembered something Clyde said earlier, _Clyde said that he and STAN were in the coach..._

"WAIT UP!" Wendy darted after them. She could have a small moment of selfishness for once. Plus, she wondered what would happen to her stepbrother as well.

Everyone wanted to see what would happen after this twist to the fairytale.

* * *

"_GUYS! GUYS OPEN UP!"_

"Hmm?" Stan looked up, glancing out the window facing the house. Running towards them was none other than Clyde, a beam shining on his face. His laughter bled through the walls of the coach, disturbing Kyle's silent brooding.

Clyde jumped onto the coach, ripping the door open and hopping back on the dirt.

"What is it?" Kyle inquired dully, raising a brow at the brunet's excitement.

"DUDE!" Clyde cackled, "KENDERELLA'S IN THERE!" He laughed harder, like a little kid knowing something his parents didn't.

"SHE IS?" Kyle snapped out of his dreary state, green eyes lighting up with hope. A smile spread on his face, the thrill of finding his long lost dance partner coursing through his curbs quicker than blood.

"YEAH MAN!" Clyde pushed the redhead out of the coach, "COME ON!"

"KENNY!" Kyle shouted, rushing towards the house.

Clyde turned to Stan for a brief moment. "You owe me one hundred crowns," He winked, and then ran after Kyle.

"Wait..." Stan blinked, "WHAT?" Hastily, Stan leapt from the carriage, pursuing his friends as they disappeared through the doors of the manor.

Clyde caught soon caught up with Kyle, only a few paces behind when they ran into the entrance hall.

"KENDERELLA? KENDERELLA?" Kyle slowed down, frantically looking around, "_KENNY_?"

"_KYLE_!" Kenny shot out from one of the halls, stumbling as he came to a stop a metre in front of Kyle. Again, the boy was panting, squatting and clutching his knees. He stated up at Kyle, smiling when he saw the prince's face in person again after so many day dreams and fantasies about seeing that face again.

Kyle stared back, eyes bulging in their sockets. He looked the filthy servant before him over, noting most specifically the shoes on his feet. They were _the_ shoes; a perfect fit on the blond's feet. _But... Wait... How is this...?_ He tried to think, but every thought was cut off by confusion. Kyle's skin paled, the boy frozen in place as the Cartmans and his entourage gathered behind them.

After a few more pants, Kenny stood up tall again, eyes flickering at the crowd watching them and then back to the perplexed prince.

"Well..." Kenny smiled nervously, scratching behind his head, "I suppose I have some 'xplainin' to do, don't I, Ky?"

Kyle didn't answer.

"Ehehehehehe..." Kenny bit his lip. _Well I got my prince alright... Just gotta keep 'im... Aw shit..._

* * *

**A/N: WA. WE'RE NEARLY DONE. THE NEXT CHAPTER IS THE LAST. Everyone start crying, we're looking upon the end. But it's okay since i have other stories in store!**

**Alright, hopefully I'll work some tomorrow on the FINAL CHAPTER, but I've had a shitty week, so I dunno. I wanted to have it done for this weekend, but we'll see, mk? I may hold off due to mood...or because I wanna savour the moments of this being in progress (while the rest of me bitches at me for not just typing up the end and closing this story once and for all)...or because I want more reviews. I'm a review-whore, what can I say? **

**Apologies for this chapter being all bleh, as I said before, my week sucked donkey dick. And today wasn't too much better. But I'll hopefully cheer up tomorrow so the final chapter can be finished up. Or at least started. Oh we've so much to do! Kyle's finally found his Kenderella alright...BUT CAN HE HANDLE THIS EPIC TWIST? DUN DUN DUN! Shocker~ **

**Alright, I'm a gonna keep this A/N short since I should toddle off to bed since it's approaching six in the mornin'. Thanks for reading! Review please! Come on, this is your last chance to leave me something before you read "THE END", gonna miss that chance? Hope you enjoyed! ~CQO**


	15. Freaking Happily Ever After

The room was encased in silence. Awkwardness hung in the air, making it so thick that the seven people could scarcely breathe. No one expected the reunion to be anything like this (Kenny doubted that there would ever be a reunion at all), and none of the six who knew nothing of the secret identity of the belle of the ball would've called such a twist.

The girls both watched with wide eyes, even ignoring their sweethearts across the room to pay close attention to their stepbrother's predicament. They still couldn't believe it was _him_ after all this time. When Wendy called that the prince would be dancing with a blond haired blue-eyed doll she never thought she was talking about her own stepbrother! At the time it was just a way of cheering up Bebe! Neither of them would've thought that their bad-boy addition to their screwed up 'family' would end up being the apple of the prince's eye. Hell, they still didn't know how the girl at the party and the boy standing before them could be the same person!

The lord of the house was just as shocked—if not more—but couldn't help but bite back a grin. In a twisted way, this was his dream. He never thought of it before, but the possibilities of all that could go wrong were like juicy strawberries, big and delicious. A scandal like this would ruin the royal name (that was, if Kyle ran off)! Not to mention it would break his little servant and leave him to be putty in his hands when he used the incident over him. Everyone would be hurt while Eric sat in his home feeding off their succulent schadenfreude. Nothing would be sweeter.

Stan was watching Kyle carefully, trying to predict Kyle's reaction, but coming up with nothing. Was he supposed to run off? It seemed like something Kyle would do considering his constant escapes from most other social encounters…but at the same time it was something he'd probably consider too rude. He was a nice person who never wanted to displease, but what would he do in a situation like this? Stan didn't even know what _he'd_ do in a situation like that! It was more than just a rock and a hard place.

Clyde was torn between worrying about Kyle and laughing his ass off. He knew the truth the whole time, but he wasn't entirely pleased with how everything played out. Sure, it was fairly funny, but laughing at his best friend's expense was a bit cruel. Even though he could be a blunt idiot, Clyde knew the basis of friendship.

Then there was Kenny, who had the centre of attention. That night was just a dream to him, and now it was coming true far too quickly. The cat was out of the bag, the boy was out of the closet, the truth was out. Kenderella was just a dirty gutter-mouth boy doomed to indentured servitude under the rule of an abusive stepbrother; there was nothing regal or feminine about it. That little lie that had him slip through the evening under the stuck-up toffee-noses ended, leaving the boy in the limelight to explain just how something so odd could possibly happen. But he could care less about what everyone else thought; it was Kyle's opinion that ultimately mattered.

Kyle was in a state of shock. All the time spent reading the stories while he passed the time in his royal cage never prepared him—nor would it have—for anything like what he faced. Was this a joke? Was it real? Was _this_ a dream? Did sense even exist anymore? Did his world just turn upside-down? Did it even _matter_? _I…this couldn't…but the shoes…wait…but…_ He couldn't think straight, mind far too scrambled to even make a coherent thought. In a way, it would've explained a lot; but that didn't stop it from being any more shocking than it was.

Kenny looked around, checking to see the others' expressions. _Well since Ky ain't speakin'… guess it's up to me to take that as a queue to start explainin' things…_ He thought, gaze returning to the redhead.

"So…" Kenny said, smiling a little, "I betcha you want me to fill ya in on why the hell I ain't exactly who ya remember me as."

Again, there was no answer.

"Right…Ya can't really talk…" He bit his lip, "A-anyway…Kyle… There's an explanation for all this! A-and the shoes don't lie, it's really me. 'Fact, my name really is _Kenny_, so I didn't lie when I told ya that. It's just…short for Kenneth instead of Kenderella. Hee…. Ya can probably tell that I made that name up on the spot, right?"

He was met with a blank stare. Kenny at least didn't need to worry about Kyle interrupting him.

"Uh…Lemme start from the beginning…" The blond took a deep breath, "Ya see Lord Asswipe—"

"AYE!"

"And the bitches over there were all dolled up to go to the party and I had to basically spit shine the place for 'em before they came home. So I worked my ass off to finish early and then fell asleep on a stupid ass couch that costs more than my soul and got dirt all over it cause…" Kenny looked down at his filthy rags and all the soot patches on his skin, "I ain't the cleanest person…BUT I WOULD BE IF I WAS ALLOWED TO! I think… well that ain't important to the story! What is important is that Fatass found me, beat the shit outta me, destroyed the house, and then left with the bitches to go off to the ball. I still got the head wound! See!" He pulled back some of the mess locks of hair, revealing a red scab on his forehead where his head collided with the table.

"Wait, you beat him?" Stan said, glowering over at the pudgy brunet.

Eric pursed his lips together, eyes purposefully wandering to the other side of the room and away from the duke.

"That's abusive and illegal!" Stan growled.

"Ehhh, shut up," Kenny barked, shooting a glare at the ebon, "I got used to it after a few years. And this ain't about how shitty this 'family' here is this is about why the fuck I've got a pair of goddamn glass heels on!"

Stan shut his mouth, nodding as a sign to continue.

"_Thank you,"_ Kenny looked back at Kyle again. The prince's eyes hadn't changed, still bulging and still demanding explanation, "Okay… This is where it gets a little weird…" Kenny scratched the back of his neck, knowing that from then on his story would sound like a bad acid trip.

"I'm listening." Kyle said. His voice was soft, but he'd managed to choke out a couple of words. Even though he barely said anything, those two words gave Kenny a little hope. He was at least _talking_.

"Okay…" He looked around at his little audience a moment, "So after they left… A little faerie came and woke me up… Or something… The thing just appeared! And I kept tellin' it to fuck off because I didn't wanna go to the stupid ball since I thought that it'd be lame—which it _totally_ wasn't after a while—but the guy was convinced that I wanted to go. Then again I couldn't understand a word of French and all that magic bullshit confused the fuck outta me…but either way he made the entire shithole here clean! And then he cast some dumbass spell on me so that I looked nice for the party but he fucked up so I looked like a fucking CHICK—thus ya likely remember me with long hair and a dress more than anything—and told me I could pull it off—which I obviously did pretty damn well or we wouldn't be havin' this conversation. Then he cast another spell and turned the cat into a guy and made some lil' figurines become my ride and off I was to the ball after he said somethin' about a condition—"

"LIES!" Cartman hissed, "If you made the whole house clean how the hell did it turn back into a craphole when we got back, Keenny?"

"I was _getting to that,"_ He shot a vicious glare at his stepbrother, baring his teeth, a gargling growl. Kenny wasn't sure how many more interruptions he could take from these people! A whimper came from Eric, proving him to be nothing but a coward when the tables were turned against him. _Pathetic…_ The blond thought, rolling his eyes and looking back at Kyle. "The condition was that if I didn't have my ass back in the house before midnight, everything would poof right back to the way things were. But like the dumbass I am, I didn't remember that 'til later, but that ain't at the part of the story we're at. Right now, we're at the part when I walk into the party and nearly kill myself fallin' down the stairs with, like, everyone lookin' at me. God, that was annoying as fuck. And then after that I went to get some food and low and behold you come up from behind lookin' all shy and dorky and blushy askin' for a dance…" He trailed off, the memory appearing in his mind and distracting him from his storytelling.

Kyle bit his lip, eyes flickering down to his feet. He remembered that moment too, and remembered it _well._ Slowly, a light cherry blush shaded his cheeks._ Goddammit…_ He hated how easily he blushed.

Kenny, taking this as a sign of embarrassment, panicked, "HEY I MEAN THAT IN THE GOOD WAY, YA KNOW? Like…it was…adorable…? Erm…shit, I suck at this kinda sappy crap... But either way I wasn't expectin' anyone to really come up and ask for a dance, or at least get away with it without a good sock to the nose! But you were, like…the prince. So I kinda had to. And, no offense dude, but you _CANNOT_ dance for SHIT which is why I took the lead when we were dancing. But it was actually pretty fun and all… Even if I did kinda embarrass the fuck outta ya…"

Cartman snickered under his breath. If anything went wrong he'd at least have _that_ memory to keep him happy.

The blond's ears perked, hearing the sniggers of his stepbrother. That was it. Three strikes; he was out.

"I swear if you don't shut up right now, you fat fuck," Kenny wheeled around, "I'll go right over there and-!"

"Kenny," Kyle muttered.

Kenny froze, that single hushed word making him hold back all his fury. He was still angry with Eric—angry wasn't even the word to describe the years of built up hate—but it was enough to sedate his rage. He turned back to Kyle, watching the prince carefully.

The redhead had his eyes set back on the blond, blush calming into a faint pinkish tinge. A serious expression (one that almost looked like he didn't have an expression at all) was on his face, all the years of building a royal dignified composure to listen to the outlandish demands and tall tales of the peasants paying off after all. If he could hold the look for the rest of the tale, he figured he wouldn't look like a blushing dork at every flashback.

"Go on," He said. There was as much expression in his voice as there was on his face.

"Right..." Kenny bit his lip. _Christ that doesn't look like a good sign...the moment the royals lose a soul the moment you basically lose the case... Well, I still gotta finish... _"Any who, I'd lie to ya and tell ya that I was gonna tell ya the truth...but I wasn't. I kinda just kept lyin' since if people found out about your lil' girlfriend being a poor piece of shit...well..." He glanced at everyone surrounding them, "Something like _this_ would happen... But whatever, I thought I wouldn't get caught like the cocky son of a bitch I am. That's why I bailed when the bell rang, 'cause everything was turnin' back to normal and FAST. I dunno how or why but these damned shoes were the only things that didn't turn to dust. And I went on tryin' to pass this all off as a stupid dream but I was just lyin' to myself and thought I'd need to work here the rest of my life and—"

"What else did you lie about?" Kyle interrupted.

"Uh...Well I obviously fibbed about the name and the personal information...and all that but..." Kenny tried to think of what else he even lied about, since everything probably would've been a shitty answer (especially when it really wasn't _everything)_, "Huh..."

"That's not what I meant," Kyle paused, glancing at the others in the room, questioning whether or not he should bring it up with an audience around. _Do I have a choice...? _"I meant...when you were lying... Were any of the _emotions_ a lie?"

"Emotions..." Kenny had a mental blank a moment, "Oh ya mean the kiss doncha!"

As they'd done earlier, Clyde and Eric snickered, both for their respective (or more unreceptive) reasons. Wendy and Bebe shot their brother a dirty look as Stan did the same to Clyde, noticing that the redhead who dared asked the question grew uneasy at the sound of the laughter.

"Y-yeah..." Kyle replied quietly, "_That_..."

"Look, Kyle," Kenny took a few steps forward, wanting to talk to the boy like he was a _person_ rather than a _superior_, "I ain't the straightest shooter around, but there's one thing I can tell ya for sure; and it's that all that lovey crap is something no man can bullshit. Well, maybe a couple guys can lie about that stuff, but even I know that's rotten and I'm at the bottom of the social food chain. Don't matter though, since the point is that I could never lie about any of that stuff. All that night I kept thinkin' I was dreamin' cause I thought there was something fucked up about me—which there probably is but that's a different story—since I like...felt all this really really gay shit for ya. Seriously dude, you don't know the half of how awkward that was. But I dealt, and I'm glad I did 'cause you're just...special. I unno. You're all sweet and crap. I bet you can come up with a shitload of flowery words to describe it since ya memorised a fucking poetry book, but I'm just a low-life who barely knows jack. That's probably why I didn't even think I'd see ya again, but here we are. And I'm comin' clean without any goddamn regrets," He stopped, standing directly in front of Kyle, staring down into his eyes, "So I can tell ya honestly that I ain't lyin' now when I say I'm kinda queer for ya and that I'll letcha do whatever ya want to me for trickin' ya. I mean, I never really wanted to go to that stupid party anyway, but I guess in the end I'm pretty fucking glad I did since I met the most sweet adorkable guy, like, ever," He smiled, sincerity dripping off every word, "Even if ya hate me now and wanna like throw me in prison or kill me or banish me or—"

"Kenny," Kyle reached up and grabbed the blond's jaw, forcing Kenny to shut his mouth. The entire time his eyes were locked on with the sapphires, watching, making sure they were the same ones from that night. The colour was the same, the size was the same, even the very animation of them was the same! Just like the shoes, he found a perfect match, "Shut up before you look stupid," A tiny crooked smile formed on his face, "I just wanted to make sure you weren't lying about that. The rest...the rest I don't care about. Even if you aren't some high-class aristocratic lady that doesn't change how I feel. I already told you I wasn't superficial, and that didn't change within a week. I've been looking for you because...well because I care. I don't care about social class or balls or even being a royal; but I do care about you. And I said when I started this search that I was going to find 'Kenderella' and ask...well what I was gonna ask at the party. Just because you're a guy or a peasant—although it seems like _slave_ fits the job description more than that," His eyes briefly flickered to Cartman.

Eric whistled innocently, pointedly looking away to turn a blind eye to the accusation. Kyle rolled his eyes and then looked back at Kenny.

"It doesn't mean that any of the conditions changed. And since I started this search and started rambling on, I may as well ask now even though it's kinda retarded and rushed and just a big load of traditional royal bullshit...but" He took a deep breath, "...uh...wanna, like...g-get...married?" By the end, that regal stuffiness melted away, leaving the same blushy dorky teenager Kenny got so well acquainted with at the ball.

"_D'AWWWWWWW!"_ Wendy and Bebe couldn't hold back their girly reactions driving them to squeal over anything romantic and cute.

All the boys just stared at them a long moment, trying to understand the reactions of the human female. What was it with girls that made them flip out whenever something sappy happened? And then have them ruin the sappy moment with their flipping out?

"Hey," Bebe frowned, "We're girls! Something adorable happens, we react accordingly! I mean come on, if Kenny's gonna be a man and not freak out over a fucking wedding proposal _we_ may as well do it for him!"

"Bebe, cut it out," Wendy whispered, "He hasn't even answered yet."

"ACTUALLY ON THE SUBJECT OF PROPOSALS!" Clyde pushed Stan aside and wandered across the room, forgetting that Kenny and Kyle even existed in favour of walking over to Bebe, "This is likely sudden, too, but considering the dump ya live in and the fact that I can't get my mind off ya, how's about I make ya my Lady Donavon?" He winked at the blonde.

"CLYDE!" Kyle took a hand off of Kenny to bang his palm against his forehead.

"YOU'RE SERIOUS?" Bebe lit up, an enormous grin stretching across her face.

Clyde nodded, "Babe, I ain't lying. I met a lotta chicks but you're the only one I actually, like, listened to and crap."

"AYE! You can't marry my sister!" Eric snarled, "They're MINE!"

"No they aren't!" Stan stepped in, "They're old enough to be able to make their own decisions and they especially don't need permission from an asshole like you who should be arrested for abuse charges!"

"You shut your goddamn mouth, cumfucker!" The lord growled.

"I'm a duke, I therefore have power over you," Stan said, "And I bet Ky would agree with me that you should be in prison! Right Kyle?"

"Yes, but could you—"

"SEE! HE AGREES!" Once again, Clyde cut the prince off, "So I have the right to marry Miss Bebe here and Stan can marry Wendy."

"DUDE!" Stan glowered at his friend.

"E-excuse me?" Wendy stammered, a light blush on her cheeks. She was a lot less energetic than her sister in terms of surprise proposals.

"Oh, don't lie to me Stan!" Clyde cheered, wrapping and arm around Bebe's shoulder, "You like Wendy, and Wendy's blushing so she must like you. Why don't we skip over the awkward crap like Bebe and I did and cut to the chase!"

"Hey," Kenny tried to butt in, "Ain't anybody gonna listen to what I have to—"

"Stan..." Wendy inched towards the ebon boy.

"I...I uh..." Stan felt his digestive tract turning into a circus again, slowly turning to face the dark-haired girl, "Erm...y-yeah...?"

"Are you...?" Wendy tilted her head, "I mean...you don't have to...I mean it's really sudden and all...but...?"

"I...UM..." His stomach turned into an ocean in the midst of a raging storm. _Shit...can't puke on her again! Gotta get it out fast! "_YES! I'D LOVE IF WE COULD, LIKE...GET MARRIED...SERIOUSLY!" He smiled, skin turning green in the process. Despite feeling sick, he didn't throw up; that was a good sign!

"Alright," Wendy smiled, "Just...let's invest in a little indigestion medication."

"Yeah...hehehe..." Stan scratched the back of his neck. Beneath his anxious exterior he was ecstatic (the happiness just didn't help the stomach issues).

"HEY ASSHOLES!" Kenny shouted, yelling loud enough for his voice to echo on the walls.

Everyone turned to look at the pair in the centre of the hall again, limelight returning to the duo who'd sparked the rampage of proposals.

"Good..." Kenny nodded, "Now that I got all your attention back...I'll go ahead and answer the question."

"What he didn't already?" Clyde's short attention span kicked in. Stan's reflex of punching Clyde in the side whenever he did something stupid also kicked in.

"Anyway..." The blond sighed, gazing back into Kyle's eyes, "Even though it's all sudden and shit, nothing this past, like, week has made any fucking sense and I honestly ain't about to start now. So..._I fucking do man_!"

The girls started cheering again, caught up once again in the ultimate romantic aspect. Stan and Clyde cheered a bit too, only far less enthusiastically. Cartman just scoffed, turning away from the scene. What started out as a potential best moment ever turned into the worst and most sickening thing he'd ever seen. Not to mention he was losing his family slaves!

The emeralds sparkled, Kyle returning to the beaming state he hadn't been in since he'd first met the blond. Everything was perfect again, and he had Kenny again. He wrapped his arms around the other and squeezed him in a hug, more on impulse than anything.

Kenny, albeit reluctantly, hugged back, smiling himself. After all those years of going through so much crap he was finally going to get a chance to be happy for the rest of his life. Was it karma? Maybe. Was it destiny? Something like that perhaps. Was it faggy fairytale magic? A good portion of it, probably. Whatever it was Kenny was happy it happened.

"Hey, Ky..." Kenny said, "Just...one condition about the weddin'..."

"What is it?" He asked, looking back up at his now fiancé.

"_I ain't wearin' the damn dress!"_ He shouted. Wearing a dress once was more than enough for his lifetime.

Everyone—save for the wicked lord who'd basically lost everything—laughed. Kenny ended up smiling rather than making a fuss over how he was serious, wanting the happy moment to keep going.

_Hmm..._ He thought, _Looks like Kenderella gets her happily ever after after all..._

* * *

"And so, the next day there was a huge triple wedding and everyone in the entire goddamn kingdom got drunk and happy except for Cartman since he's an asshole. THE END!" Kenny said, shutting the storybook on his lap. He wasn't reading from it—though it was easy to tell that—but it added to his storyteller effect, "Now wasn't that a fucking awesome story, Ike?"

Lying in his bed was young Ike, covers wrapped around him and his older brother's hand-me-down Philip doll tucked under and arm. The Canadian blankly stared at the blond who'd just told him what was supposed to be a bedtime story, lips pressed in a firm line as he processed the entire tale he'd just been told.

"What. The fuck. Was that?" Ike asked plainly, cocking his head.

"It was a bedtime story, twerp," Kenny frowned tossing the book he'd been 'reading from' on the ground, "Ya asked for one 'fore bed!"

"No, I asked for _Kyle_ to read me a _real_ bedtime story," Ike corrected him, narrowing his dark eyes into slits, "Not for you to ramble on about something that sounds like a combination of a bad acid trip and erotic dream about my brother."

"He, I don't crossdress," Kenny narrowed his eyes back at the boy.

"So you just made your character do that since you didn't even bother changing the names?" Ike always enjoyed being a smartass; it was something he took pride in.

"...Touché..." Kenny shook his head, "STILL! I read ya your damn story, so either I read ya another or ya shut your eyes and go to sleep!"

"Please spare me anymore fucked up fairytales..." Ike rolled his eyes, settling down more in his bed.

"That's what I thought!" The blond nodded, getting up from his seat on the edge of Ike's bed and walking over to the door, "Now g'night!"

"I still don't see why Kyle couldn't just come in and read me another chapter of _The Da Vinci Code..._" Ike muttered, shutting his eyes.

"I already told ya Ike," Kenny stopped in the doorway, glancing behind him at the Canadian with a hand on the light switch, "I already tired 'im out enough to go to bed early." His signature cocky grin curved on his lips, Kenny winking at the little Canadian who still had enough of an eye open to see.

"Ugh..." Ike shuddered, pulling the covers over his head, "Too much information, asshole."

"Night, twerp!" Kenny chuckled, flicking the lights off and walking out into the hall. The door shut behind him, the young Broflovski's bedroom being engulfed in a blanket of darkness. Ike squeezed his eyes shut, trying to think of as many random things as he could to get that abomination of a story out of his head.

Sadly, it was one he had a feeling he'd remember for a _long_ time.

**THE END**

* * *

**A/N: OH MY GOD I'M CRYING RIGHT NOW I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHY! TTATT **

**I...I honestly wanna thank all of you, each and every one of you, whether you skimmed it or read it all the way through or whatever. Thank you for taking the time to read this story, I know it was cracky (though the end justifies WHY...did I mention I hate when fanfictions can't somehow click with some form of canon?) but you actually read it. And those of you who reviewed...I just love you guys more. Sorry people who read but didn't review, I gotta say that you reviewers all made me smile and gave me hope, especially since hard times have been around these days. But that isn't important, what is important is that you guys are awesome! From those reviewing since the start, those who picked up in the middle, or those of you reading this after this story is long over. I just want to thank you. And then we have our fanart donor too, I'm giving her extra points! I'm sorry, just all of you, I love you guys so much. **

**I'm sorry, I'm having a moment. My baby grew from a lil' plot bunny into...THIS. A full grown novel-length (and cracky) story. Without all my notes, it's about...49.271 words. And it's done. I haven't finished anything bigger than a one-shot in a while so this feels so good. Did I mention I love you all? (also, I find it ironic that I wrote this after the Royal Wedding South Park)**

**Alright, my pets, thank you so much for sticking around. Do leave me one last review since you'll never again need to check for an update on this story. We're done here. It's time for me to work on other writings and for you to read other things. I do hope that a portion of you stick around and read some other stuff of mine, but that's just a writer's hope. I don't care if you do either way (I'd like to think you'd read more of mine as a writer, but I'm certainly not forcing you! D:) but you read this and I'm happy. Whether this be our last encounter or the start of many to come, I bid you all good night. It's three in the bloody morning and I can go to bed with the pride of having finished this and hopefully all you readers can finish this long long LONG author's note and feel special or at least finish this story and feel happy! **

**Well...That's all there is, there isn't anymore. Until next time, everyone! ~CQO**


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